Monster Hunter International: Encounters
by Arlux1313
Summary: Alex Morrison was just a normal guy from a nothing city in New York. At least that was before a Vampire attacked him. Now he's a recruit for the best group of Monster Hunters in the world. However, just because you're with the best, doesn't mean whatever you encounter wont try to eat you. Or that you'll get out in once piece. It's a dangerous job, but someone's gotta do it.
1. Chapter 1 First Encounter

Chapter 1. First encounter

You know a few years ago, if someone had told me I'd be hunting monsters for a living, I would have thought that person would have been bat-shit insane. Of course that all changed _real_ fast in October. Of all things, of all nights it just had to be on Halloween. Now I like the holiday, candy's good, kids are happy going trick-or-treating, and there are some really good horror movies on T.V. Now that being said, I'm kinda freaked out by Jason Voorhees, however that is a different story. Now on this particular night, I was closing up my department at my local grocery store. A Wegmans in Syracuse New York, when I get paged over the store's PA.

" _Alex to the back room. Alex Morrison to the back room please."_ The voice said over the PA.

I rolled my eyes, and growled in irritation. Just what I needed. It was 8:30 pm, and I was already behind in closing up my part of the store. But I was just a low level employee, so there wasn't really much I could do, so I made my way through the Produce cooler, into the loading docks, and walked through a small archway into the back room. And I could see why I got called back too. There was a mountain of cardboard boxes stacked up around the cardboard bailer.

"Great. That means the damn thing's fucked up … _Again._ " I growled clearly irritated. However since I was still a low level employee, there wasn't much I could do.

Fortunately, someone had been nice enough to load all the boxes onto several green carts, so I hauled them off to the other side of the store two carts at a time. Of course since I didn't feel like putting these boxes in the other bailer, I decided to leave them there, and let someone from the night shift deal with them.

I had just gotten back to where the mountains of boxes were, when I became aware that something was behind me. I turned around, and standing a few feet away was … Well he was _something_ else alright. His head was tilted slightly to his right, his eyes were slightly widened, giving him this slightly crazy look. The guy's hair, face, and the front of his shirt looked to be covered in fake blood. But the kicker, was the smile. It gave him this deranged 'I'm about to fuck your shit up' look.

"Woah man. Nice costume, but there isn't a party here." I said to the guy, and his smile only got wider.

"Well there is about to be." He said almost giddily, as he showed his teeth with his wide smile, revealing two elongated incisors.

Thats when I got it. What his costume was. At least back then I thought it was a costume. He was a vampire. And then things got crazy when he leapt at me. The guy tackled me through one of the carts, sending boxes everywhere and knocking the wind out of me slightly. I'll give the guy this, he was strong. He tried to make a break for my neck, but I brought my foot up into his crotch. The nut groaned in pain, and I pushed him off, and pushed him off hard. Now I'm a decently sized guy. 6'0, slightly decent build although I am a little out of shape. But I was still strong enough to send the crazy nut job off of me, and into the corner of the cardboard bailer with a resounding _clang!_

"Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you!?" I screamed at the guy as he got up. Although, he didn't look like hitting the back of his head on the bailer had hurt him at all. In fact he looked pissed off.

He leaped at me again, but I lashed out with my left leg and kicked him in the chest. But he caught my leg. I had never even seen him move his arms to grab my leg. And then incredible pain shot up my leg, as he brought one of his arms down snapping my leg. I screamed and dropped to the ground, trying to back away from my attacker and look for anything I could defend myself with.

"Nothing is wrong with me." He said happily as he slowly made his way forward. "I am a god."

"God!?" I screamed in incredulity and pain, as I continued to back away from him. "I don't know what drug you're on, but you're no god. You're fucking insane!"

He looked down at me, and snarled. "That's no way to talk to a god!"

My fingers closed around something as he voiced his objections, and swung whatever it was at this fucker's head. What I was rewarded with, was the look of shock on his face when the axe I had swung at his head impacted with his left temple. Don't ask what an axe was doing in the back room of a grocery store, because I had no idea what it was doing there either. Of course, the thought that I had won was dashed, and I was shocked and horrified when his look of shock turned into a look of pure anger. He reached up, and snapped the axe. Although the blade was still stuck in his head. He snarled as he picked me up by the throat with inhuman, and held me up in the air.

"I'll show you what happens when you defy God!" He snarled at me, but I still had the haft of the axe in my hand. I gripped it as hard as I could, and stabbed him in the chest. Hell this guy wanted to dress and act like a Vampire, then he was gonna get the whole treatment. Stake through the heart and everything.

The third big surprise of that night, was that when I did that, the flesh around the wound began to smoulder, and my attacker dropped me to the ground only to began writing in pain. I couldn't believe it though. Usually when someone gets stabbed in the chest, they die instantly. The wounds don't start to smoke.

"Fuck me." I said, from a crumpled heap on the ground. As my broken leg had buckled the second I had hit the floor. "You aren't just fucking around. You're an actual Vampire."

Now it was my turn to go from shocked to anger. I was attacked at my job, on Halloween, by an actual Vampire, who wanted to make me his next snack. It then dawned on me at the same time, that all that red stuff on his head and shirt, was actual blood. He had killed and fed on other innocent people. That infuriated me, and I decided that wasn't gonna happen to anyone anymore. Not by this fucker's hand. Fueled by adrenaline, and anger, I used my good leg, and pushed the makeshift sake further into the Vampire's chest. That not caused him even greater pain, but it sent him over the safety rail of the store's trash compacter.

"And there's also something else you are." I snarled, gritting my teeth and fighting through the pain of my broken leg. "You're dead!" I growled and pressed the start button to the compactor.

For the second time that night, I felt as if something was behind me. However, as I wasn't in a very good position to move, I took a look over my shoulder and scoffed. Standing behind me with their weapons drawn, were at least half a dozen cops. Of course I couldn't hear what they were saying to me, as my eyes had rolled into the back of my skull, and I blacked out.


	2. Chapter 2 Rude Awakening

Chapter 2. Rude awakening.

I faded in and out of consciousness for what seemed like hours, before I finally woke up. In a hospital. Well it figures, that Vampire had snapped my leg. I woke up to the sight of my leg in a heavy cast, and the sound of an EKG machine beeping. My wrapped up leg had been slightly elevated. _Okay that Vampire must have really fucked up my leg._ I thought irritatedly. And that's when I noticed something else.

There were two men standing on the right side of my hospital bed. They were wearing cheap off the rack suits, and they had the 'I seriously don't want to be here right now' expression on their face. These guys just screamed Federal Agent. One of them had movie star good looks. Why this guy wanted to be a fed was beyond me. The other looked like D. J. Cotrona. Those of you who that is, he was Flint in G. I. Joe Retaliation, and despite what some people think, that was a good movie.

"Ah good to see you're awake now Mr. Morrison." The movie star fed started.

I groaned, and sat up slightly. "How long have I been out?" I asked, having no idea what the feds were doing in my hospital room. "And what hospital is this?" I asked this, as there were four in Syracuse. Community General, up by the local Community College. University Medical Center, and Crouse Hospital were pretty much the same building, and then there was the Veterans Medical Care.

"You were fading in and out of consciousness for the first five hours." The Cotrona look alike said. "You were sleeping soundly for the past seven."

I let out a low whistle. "Twelve hours. It couldn't have been that bad, I mean all I have is a broken leg."

The good looking movie star fed shook his head. "Actually Mr. Morrison, while your leg is broken, you also have several cracked ribs, and your right ankle is dislocated. The Vampire you killed last night, did quite a number on you. Hell you're lucky to have gotten off as easy as you did."

My eyes widened, and my blood turned to ice. "So that guy really _was_ a Vampire? I wasn't just hallucinating? You're telling me that wasn't some sort of fucked up dream, and I didn't just get into a really bad car accident?"

Again, the really good looking fed shook his head. "I'm sorry Mr. Morrison, but you weren't dreaming. That was indeed a Vampire you killed last night."

My head started spinning. Vampire's were real, and that raised a whole other crop of questions. "Okay, If Vampire's are real, does that mean Werewolves are too?" I asked with some slight incredulity.

The Cotrona look alike noded. "And a whole mess of other nasty things that go bump in the night."

I sighed again, and leaned back against my pillow. "So who the hell are you guys? F.B.I. C.I.A. N.S.A.?" I asked again, and the good looking agent shook his head.

"No. I'm Agent Jefferson." He said indicating himself. "And my partner. Agent Locke. We're called M.C.B. An agency known only to people who had an encounter with Supernatural creatures."

"Okay. Well why are you here? And you still haven't answered my question. What hospital is this?" I asked the feds.

"You're at Community General Hospital Mr. Morrison." Agent Locke said as he handed me a newspaper, and the front headline stated. ' _Local man kills drug addict.'_ "That Mr. Morrison is the official story, and we would appreciate it if you would stick to that story."

Another low whistle later, I asked the feds another question. "Just out of curiosity, why is _this_ the official story?"

"We really don't have to answer that." Locke replied. "Just trust us. It would be better to stick to this story and be a hero."

I nodded a few times. "I'm guessing that if I don't, then _my_ official story would be that I went 'missing' or something along those lines."

Agent Jefferson nodded, with a grim expression on his face. "Yeah, that's usually how it goes."

"Think I'll stick to this then." I replied tapping the newspaper.

"Good choice Mr. Morrison." Agent Jefferson said with an almost relieved smile. "Well I hope you recover quickly." And with that, the two M.C.B feds left my room.

No sooner did the feds leave, than my mother, little brother, and baby sister rushed in. My mother's name is Anna has a shocking resemblance to Kate Beckinsale from her role as Selene in Underworld. Only with slightly longer hair. And my younger teenage brother Thom … Oh man how do I describe him? Well the best way to sum it up, is that he looks like what you would get if you crossed Austin Aries without his facial hair, and CM Punk. Now my baby sister, Katie is adorable. Now since I'm not all that good with descriptions, picture what an eleven year old Aela The Huntress from Skyrim would look like, and that's my little sister. As they entered my room, their expressions were etched with both intense worry, yet immense relief when they saw me. The three began plying me with questions, but no sooner than they did this, than a slightly gruff Irish accented voice cut them off.

"Alright you two, that's quite enough." I knew that accent anywhere. It was my dad Lucas Morrison.

Now my dad I swear to God you can't make this up, could pass for Paul Levesq's twin brother. Those of you who don't know who he is, his other name would be Tripple H. Now my dad, to use the term 'badass' would be insulting. The man served in Desert Storm, was there during the Black Hawk incident in Mogadishu, and did eight tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. The man knew every which way to disarm someone, holding any and I mean _any_ type of weapon weather it was a gun, a knife, or a blunt object. He knew practically every martial art on the planet, and there was nothing in the world that could scare him.

My dad looked me over once, took one of the chairs in the room, placed it next to my bed, and clapped his hand on my shoulder. "So you got the shite beaten out of you by some druggie?" He said still using his accent. Like the rest of our family, it only popped up when we were upset, worried, or under any form of emotional duress.

However, when my dad asked his question, I simply responded with. "No I had some of your cooking." I swear he couldn't breathe he was laughing so hard.


	3. Chapter 3 Recovery and old friends

Chapter 3. Recovery and old friends.

A few days later, I got discharged from Community General. That being said, I was in no condition to do much of anything, as my left leg was still in a heavy cast. My right ankle had been tapped up too. Also seeing as my doctors didn't want me to much of anything, since I didn't have full use of both legs, they had me confined to a wheelchair for several weeks. But It wasn't all bad, since I had somehow been able to convince my parents I could still take care of myself. So on the upside I was still staying in my apartment. Even though my mom still insisted on staying there to take care of me. But I didn't really complain about that. She's the only one in my house that can cook. My dad always joked about some family curse, that the men in our family couldn't cook. Not my great-grandpa, not my grandpa, not my dad, not my oldest brother John, not myself, and certainly not Thom. So yeah, it's very well established that the men in the Morrison family can't cook to save their lives. On the other side of that coin though, the women in my family are artists with food. So I was not complaining when my mom stayed with me for the first couple of weeks.

Katie and Thom also stopped by pretty often. Katie just wanted to hear the story of how I had dealt with that 'drug addic.,' Much to my mom's distain. Thom just came over to (attempt) to kick my ass in Call of Duty. Although secretly, I think he was there to keep guard over me. Which was kinda nice when you think about it, although kinda backwards too, as me being the older brother should be looking out for my little brother. But hell I'm not gonna complain. Thom might seem like a scrawny little punk rocker, but he could move like Bruce Lee, and punch like Mike Tyson.

But there was some good news, and a pretty cool surprise that came a few weeks later. My big heavy-ass cast on my left leg came off, but was replaced by a smaller cast that ran from the lower part of my knee, to my foot just leaving my toes bare. I didn't have to use the wheelchair to get around my apartment, as I had a pair of crutches now, and had full use of my right leg. My mom decided that I was able to take care of myself, but left a few of her recipes, and _very_ explicit instructions on how to do everything.

The day after my mom left, I had just taken a shepard's pie out of the oven. Hoping that I hadn't done anything wrong to it. But I was surprised to find it tasted pretty damn good. I had just finished my plate, when my cell phone began playing Living Color's 'Cult of Personality.' My eyes widened, as that was the ringtone I reserved for my friend Pat, and I hadn't seen him in four years. I picked up my phone, and hit the green button on the screen.

"Hello?"

"Alex? You home?"

I couldn't believe it. "Pat? Pat Martin!?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah it's me." He said from the other side. "Now you gonna let me in or what?"

I hobbled over to the door on my crutches, and unlocked my door. It swung open, and standing in the doorway was my best friend Patrick Martin. I hadn't seen him in four years, but the guy hadn't changed. He stood at 6'2, still had his black hair shortened, he still dressed in all black right down to the damn jeans, wore the same pair of sunglasses and poking out under the sleeve of his his Under Armor shirt, I could still see the bottom of his Celtic Cross tattoo on his upper left forearm.

I scoffed at seeing him. "Shit man. You haven't changed in four years."

He laughed slightly as we bumped fists. "Neither have you. Still working at Wegmans?"

I inhaled slightly and rubbed the back of my head, as he entered my apartment. "Yeah about that. I don't think I'm going back to work there. Not since-"

"Not since you got your ass handed to you by a Vampire right?" A second person said as they stepped into the doorway.

This newcomer was clearly female. She had dark skin, and her black hair was wrapped up into long dreadlocks, and there was a bandana tied around the top of her forehead. She had on a dark brown leather jacket, a pair of faded jeans, and a worn pair of Converse sneakers.

"Isabelle Singer." She said extending her hand, and smiling.

"Alex Morrison." I replied, and shaking her hand. I was surprised at how strong her grip was. But even more surprised to hear that she knew about that Vampire. "But that was a drug addict not a Vampire Miss Singer."

Now it was Patrick's turn to scoff. "Oh bullshit it was."

I looked to him in surprise. "How do you know anyways?"

"Let me guess Alex. Two guys in cheap-ass suits paid you a visit, and told you to keep your mouth shut or otherwise you'd end up dead?" Pat asked.

I nodded. "Yeah pretty much. So what are you and Miss Singer here for?"

"You can call me Isabelle." She said. "I hate formalities."

"Alright Isabelle." I replied. "But my question still stands. What are guys here for?"

Pat spoke up again. "Think of it as a job offer."

I tilted my head slightly, as I looked at him. "A job offer? What sort of job?" I asked him.

"Doing what you did a few weeks ago." Was his reply.

"What? Getting my ass handed to me by a Vampire?" I asked.

Isabelle shook her head. "No. You'd be hunting monsters."

"You see Alex." Pat started. "Belle and I work for a company called Monster Hunter International. Or M.H.I. for short. M.H.I. Is the premier monster hunting company in the world. We're for-profit. Completely privately funded, and we handle monster problems all over the world."

I let out a low whistle. "So that explains why you went off the grid for four years. You've been playing the part of Sam and Dean Winchester?"

Isabelle couldn't help but laugh. "Oh God if we had those boys working for us, M.H.I. Would kick even more ass than we do now. And believe me, that is saying something. Oh before I forget."

She took out an envelope out from her jacket pocket, and handed it to me. "This is yours." She said.

My eyebrows furrowed. "What is it?" I asked cautiously.

"It's your PUFF bounty." Pat replied.

"What the hell is PUFF?" I asked.

Isabelle chimed in. "It stands for 'Peripheral Unearthly Forces Fund.' It was started by Teddy Roosevelt back in 1902. It's the system used to pay people who hunt monsters."

I nodded, and opened the envelope, and my jaw hit the floor when I saw what that Vampire was worth.

"$1.2 million!?" I practically screamed, and Pat just smiled.

"That never gets old." He told Isabella, who noded.

"$1.2 million!?" I exclaimed again.

"Easy Alex." Pat said. "Try to breathe."

I looked at my best friend. "It's kinda hard to breathe, when I'm holding a check for $1.2 million."

"Fair enough. So are you in?"

I took a deep breath, and noded. "Oh hell yes I'm in. But…"

"But what?" Pat asked.

I knocked on my cast, and said in my best impression of Dean Winchester. "Bobby I'm a gimp."

Isabelle chuckled, and placed a card in my hand. "Alright when you're healed up, call the number on the card. Ask for Earl Harbinger. Tell him who you are, and that we talked to you."

I smiled and noded again, but I still had a couple of questions. "Okay, so I'm guessing that there is some sort of training program involved?"

Isabelle noded. "A pretty damn intense one at that."

"What about guns? I seriously doubt you guys hunt monsters with just your hands and feet."

Pat noded. "You can bring your own, but we have a pretty decent armory of our own."

"I'm not surprised." I chuckled. "Okay, that aside. Are there any specifics for the weapons?"

"Actually there are." Isabelle replied. "Three-oh-eight Winchester, or two-two-three Remmington for rifles. Forty five ACP for sub-guns. Same round for hand guns, but we also take forty Smith and Weston. And twelve gauge for shotguns."

I whistled clearly impressed. "That's a lot of hardware."

"Yeah, you really lucked out man." Pat said. "A little while ago, we were limited to just the three-oh-eight, the twelve gauge, and the forty five."

"Well you recover, and hopefully we'll see you soon." Isabelle said, as she left my apartment. Pat and I bumped fists, but he walked back in a second later.

"I almost forgot. I got you something." He said with a long box in his hand. He smiled as he opened the box, and my eyes widened when I was looking at an exact replica of Barry Burton's 96f Beretta.

"Four years. Four years, and you still know I'm a Resident Evil fan?" I said completely floored.

"It's for the Zombies." He said laughing, as we bumped fists again.

After he left, I took the check to the bank, and was surprised when the PUFF bounty actually cleared.


	4. Chapter 4 Some serious hardware

Chapter 4. Serious hardware

About a week after Pat's visit, my second cast came off, and that's when I made the call to Earl Harbinger. Unfortunately, Earl told me that a 'Newbie Course' as he called it had already started, and there wouldn't be another one for the next four months. I was pissed off yeah, but then I remembered that Isabelle had said that M.H.I's training was pretty damn intense. So I decided that it was time I got back in shape. I practically threw myself into training. Gym memberships, martial arts training, stuff like that. Before my older brother John joined the army, him and I would watch old Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan movies and try to mimic their moves, part of the reason I wanted to do martial arts in the first place. Combined with my love of the old Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles tv show, not to mention Might Morphin Power Rangers. Honestly I should say that before my encounter with that vampire, I had taken a karate class, but I had to quit since some of the stress I suffered in high school took a lot out of me. But my old instructor was more than happy to welcome me back … after a couple thousand push-ups. My arms hurt for a month after that lesson. I also got my Beretta registered. No sense than walking around with an unregistered weapon. After two months, I was back in peak condition, and hopefully I was ready for what M.H.I could throw at me.

Of course there was still the matter of better arming myself. I remember Pat telling me that they had a decent armory, but I'd rather bring my own guns. But there was still a small matter to take care of first. Okay, I take that back. Two small matters I had to take care of. The first being that I needed a car. I'm afraid of heights, so flying is out, and I'm not going on a bus or train with an ass-ton of guns, so therefore I needed my own vehicle. I took the bus down to Romano Ford down on North Burdick Street, and looked around at the trucks and Mustangs, smiling in approval. Hey don't judge, I'm a Ford guy. No sooner did I start admiring one of the GT's, than a salesperson walked up to me.

"May I help you Sir?" He asked politely.

"Yeah, I'm looking for a car." I told him. "You have any suggestions?"

"Looking to impress your girlfriend?" He asked again, smiling slightly.

I shook my head. "Unfortunately, depending on who you talk to I'm single." I started. "But I'm not here to talk about my personal life."

"I understand." The salesperson said. "So what interests you?"

I shrugged and looked around. I wasn't really sure what I wanted. Sure I had $1.2 million to spend, but spend it on what was the question. And that was answered, when my eyes fell on a black Shelby Cobra.

"That Cobra." I said pointing, and the salesman's eyes widened.

"Sir, that Cobra costs $250,000. I don't believe that's in your price range." He said slightly floored.

I scoffed once. "I'll take it." I said plainly.

The salesman looked at me like I was insane. "Sir might I suggest-"

"I'll take it." I said cutting him off. "Price isn't the issue for me."

Twenty minutes later, I was the proud owner of a 5.0L supercharged, 8 cylinder, 832 horsepower, 3-speed CS auto race transmission, black Ford Cobra. Now with the car out of the way, all I had to do next was properly arm myself, and I knew just where to go. Intimidator Armory.

However, before I went there I wanted to make sure that I knew just about everything I could about proper weapon care, handling, and safety. I had a solution to that too, when I still had that huge cast on my leg and Thom would regularly visit, he'd drop hints that he was getting further into guns than he was. Thom was the gun nut in a family whos patriarch and eldest son were gun nuts themselves. So I figured, why not do a little more bonding time with my little brother at our local IDPA chapter. Although I got a huge surprise when our instructor for the handgun and carbine course Thom and I had signed up for, turned out to be my karate instructor.

I was a little disappointed when the course ended, but the bright side was that now I felt like I could be a halfway decent hunter. There was just one more thing to take care of before I could head down to wherever MHI was located. I needed to properly arm myself. It was only a short drive downtown to Intimidators, and I knew exactly who would be there. Hell they guy never shut the hell up about working there. I passed through the front door, and was greeted to applause by the guy behind the counter.

"Oh there he is. Mr. Drug buster." My friend Brian said, with the biggest smile on his face.

I couldn't help but laugh, as I made my way forward. "What's going on fat boy?"

He laughed. "Oh you know. Same shit different day. So what brings you in?"

I smirked as I looked at him. "I need some decent guns."

"Aw hell yeah man. You came to the right place. So what are you in the mood for?"

I paused for a few seconds, before responding. "I could use a decent shotgun. What do you have in stock?"

Brian scoffed. "What kind of shotgun you want? We've got, autoloaders, double barrels." He paused for a second. "What about a good pump gun?" He asked.

I nodded smirking. "Yeah pump action sounds good." I pointed behind him. "What about that Spas 12?"

Brian looked behind him, and took it off the shelf. "Nice choice man. Eighteen inch barrel, folding stock, and it can fire eight rounds either on semi automatic, or pump."

I gave a low whistle, as he set it on the counter. "Nice paint job." I said, and I wasn't kidding. The Spas' paint job was reminiscent of the front of some WWII era fighter jets. You know? That open shark mouth paint job. "How much?"

"That's forty two fifty. And don't give me any 'I'm good for its.' We might be bros, but I'm not giving any discounts because of it."

I waved him off. "It's fine man. I can pay for it easily."

His eyes widened slightly, but he didn't press the issue. "Alright, anything else while you're at it?" He asked.

"Yeah. I could use a good rifle." I supplied. "You recommended the Spas, what else you got? Oh preferably something that shoots three-oh-eight Winchester, or two two three Remmington."

"Why so specific?" He asked, to which I shook my head.

"I honestly can't explain why. And trust me you really don't wanna know."

Brian simply shrugged. "Alright. Alright. So three-oh-eight, or two-two-three." A wicked smile crossed his face. "Well why not both.?"

Now it was my turn to smirk. "Now you're speaking my language."

He disappeared into the back of the store, and when he came back, he was carrying two rifles. "G36 for your three-oh-eight. And H&K XM8 for your two-two-three."

"Hang on a second, those are both two-two-three rifles." I said almost automatically.

At this, a smirk crossed over Brian's face. "Well I see someone learned a thing or two from the last time we hung out."

"I took a few courses." I replied. "So what do you have in three-oh-eight?"

"Well that depends on what you're looking for." Brian said. "You want an assault rifle or a battle rifle?"

"Well why not one that can function as both?" I replied, matching his previous smirk.

"Alright, well when it comes to serving dual purpose, you have a couple choices." Brian began as he took a few rifles off the shelf behind him, and set them in front of me on the clear plexiglass of the pistol display. "You got your AR-10, AR-15, G3, and if you really wanted to, I guess you could go with the FAL."

I was horribly tempted to purchase all of them, but my Cobra's trunk only had so much room. "What would you reccomend?"

"Honestly? I'd go with the G3 here. This one here's an A4 model, it's your standard three-oh-eight platform, longer barrel length than your A4, you can fix a bayonet and any form of scope on this little bugger."

"You just sold it to me."

"Okay time out on the field." Bran said, with a disbelieving tone. "How are you able to afford all this? You work in a damn grocery store… Wait a minute. Oh idiot, I should have seen this coming a mile away."

"Should have seen what coming?" I asked frowning.

"What was it Alex? Werewolf? Zombie? Vampire?"

I was floored. Absolutely floored, how in the world could Brian know I'd gotten a PUFF bounty? "How…?"

Brian pulled out his wallet and set an old business card on the pistol case. It was the same one that Pat had given me.

"You are shitting me!" I must have looked like a deer in the headlights to him.

"Remember when Pat and I went camping?" Brian asked. I nodded, Pat's mom had invited Brian and myself along with another friend of ours to go camping with the rest of Pat's family. Unfortunately, I'd gotten seriously sick a few days before and had missed the opportunity to go.

"You got attacked?" I asked in a low tone.

"Gargoyle. Fuckers are flying stone tanks. Anyway, Pat, Hallock, and me got recruited at the same time."

"So why are you managing a gun store?" I asked feeling confused. If Brian, Pat, and Mike got recruited into MHI, then shouldn't Brian be out killing something right now?

"Long story short, I'm on injury leave, and I got set up here." He replied shrugging. "It's a nice little side job, and the flat above the shop is better than your apartment. Plus, I get to arm all the hunters in the area."

"So that's why everything on this table is fully automatic." I said aloud, but more to myself.

"Damn right." Brian said smirking as if he was proud of himself. "And since you're a new hunter, forget the paperwork."

"Thanks brother, and don't worry, I have no doubts that these guys are gonna pay for themselves." I said picking up one of the magazines on the clear plexiglass counter. "Real quick, these PMags?"

"Only the best." Brian replied. "So what else can I get you?"

"How about ammo?"

Brian scoffed. "Yeah I figured that much. How much you want."

I thought about it for a second. "How much can I legally buy?"


	5. Chapter 5 MHI

Chapter 5. M.H.I.

Two months after I had purchased my Cobra, G36, XM8, G3,and Spas 12, I was headed towards MHI's headquarters in Cazador Alabama. Unfortunately for me, as much as I wanted to turn my Cobra loose on the freeway, I had to obey the speed limits. Along with the 3 rifles I'd purchased a 1911 made by Kimber, a Kel Tec KSG, as well as a nice little PF9. Sure the little 9mm didn't fit the ammo specs that MHI had, but It was always nice to have a little backup handy. Proper ammo or not. I couldn't risk getting pulled over and attempting to explain the cops what I was doing with a small little armory, as well as thousands of rounds in the trunk of my car.

I'd put the majority of my possessions into storage before heading out, Thom had asked what I was going to do with my apartment, and I'd told him that my lease would be up the day I headed for Alabama much to my little brother's disappointment. So here's how much of a good older brother I am, since I still had a decent chunk of my PUFF bount left, I put enough money down to extend the lease for another year. Thom moved in the day I moved out. The name on the lease was under Morrison, it never specified which Morrison. Since I couldn't tell my parents or my siblings exactly what I was going down to Alabama for, I had told them I was going to become a civilian contractor. Mom was against it from the start, and dad questioned me over and over why I didn't sign up to join the US armed forces instead. I told him that this job payed a lot better than the armed forces, plus he already had one son in the Army. My oldest brother John was a Sergeant in the US Army Rangers. Dad didn't say much about my new job after that, just told me to be careful.

After two days on the road, I finally came across a sign that said ' _Welcome to Cazador. Population 686.'_ After passing the sign, I laid eyes on the town of Cazador. Alright let's be honest here. To say that this place was a town, was a little insulting. There were just a couple of buildings, and a catfish factory that allowed people to take a tour of it. If you could believe something like that.

Following the directions that Earl Harbinger had given me, led me down a dirt path through a forest that kept getting thicker and thicker. Just when I thought I should attempt to turn around, a very high chain-link fence topped with a couple rows of nasty looking razor wire came into view. Separating the fence, was an iron gate with a green smiley face with horns on the top. To the left side of the gate, was a small guard shack. Driving up, I could see that it was occupied by a highly attractive woman with horned rimmed glasses, carrying a 1911 on her right hip, and an M14 EBR laying across her lap, and also visibly pregnant. Now that raised a little red flag. _Why is a pregnant woman carrying a marksman rifle?_

"Can I help you?" She asked, snapping me out of my thought.

I cleared my throat a bit before answering. "Ah yes I'm looking for MHI."

The woman smiled. "You're here for the Newbie Course then?"

I nodded. "Yes ma'am."

"No need for formalities." She said, as she carefully stood up, and extended her hand towards me. "I'm Julie. Julie Shackleford Pitt."

I smiled and shook Julie's hand, and like Isabelle's I was surprised to find that she had a very firm grip. Then again this woman had an M14 marksman (or in this case markswoman's) rifle, so I really shouldn't have been all that surprised.

"I'm Alex Morrison." I told Julie, who seemed to be lost in thought.

"Morrison… Oh you're the guy who axed that Vampire, then crushed him in that garbage compactor."

I nodded again. "Yes that would be me."

"Nice work." She said as she continued to smile. "Well I'll get the gate open. Keep driving until you get to the main building, and park in front. Welcome to M.H.I. Oh and nice car."

I couldn't stop the smile that spread along my face as the gates opened, and I guided my Cobra towards the main building, which was a big-ass building with brick and concrete walls. The windows were nothing but slits covered in iron bars, and it really gave off this ominous feeling. I parked my car next to this kick-ass blue GTO, and made my way inside the main building. I was surprised to find that the inside looked … I don't know, normal. There was even a woman who looked like Betty White from the Golden Girls sitting behind a thick oak wood desk. It was certainly not what I was expecting.

"Need somethin' son?" The Betty White receptionist asked.

I shook my head, in an attempt to clear the cobwebs. I must have looked lost as hell to her. "Yes ma'am. My name's Alex Morrison. I'm here for the um … Newbie course."

Like Julie had a few minutes ago, this woman seemed to mull over my name for a few minutes. "Oh you're that young feller what done axed, staked, and crushed that Vampire up in New York."

I groaned. "Does _everybody_ know that?"

The receptionist scoffed. "Course everybody knows. You done squashed that Vamp but good, and you should be damn proud of yourself son."

I smiled and rubbed the back of my neck. "Thank you ma'am."

"Ma'am?" She scoffed again. "I'm no 'ma'am.' My name's Dorcas."

"An honor to meet you Dorcas." I said respectfully, as I noticed a big revolver, a ruger if I had to guess underneath her dress. An elderly woman with a gun that size you do not piss off.

Dorcas smiled as we shook hands. "Now yer a mite early, but you can head into the cafeteria. That's where the other Newbies are." She said as she jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

Finding the cafeteria wasn't a problem. It was behind a set of large double doors, yet to the left of those doors, the wall was lined with dozens of silver plaques. As I got closer, I noticed that they were the names of fallen hunters… With a surprising amount of them having died in December of 1995, and something told me that I didn't want to know what the hell had caused that. Above the plaques, was another sign that read. _Sic Transit Gloria Mundi._ Whatever the hell that meant.

I shrugged, and made my way through the doors, and into the cafeteria. To my surprise, I found that it was slightly packed. There must have been at least 60 or 70 people here, all from different backgrounds, and most were clustered together. Now I'm not all that much of a social butterfly, so I chose a seat towards the back of the room, and plugged in one of my earbuds, smiling slightly as I listened to _Devil's Never Cry._ For those who don't know, it's the song played during the ending fight/credits of Devil May Cry 3 Dante's Awakening.

It was towards the end of the song, when I noticed someone else was standing over me. I looked up, and nearly fell out of my seat, because standing above me was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid my eyes on. Her long black hair, was tied into a single braid, she had soft yet defined facial features, her eyes were probably the darkest brown I had ever seen, and she had some nice curves. Not incredibly defined mind you, but they were there all the same.

"Mind if I sit here?" She asked. _My God even her voice sounds beautiful._

I fumbled to pause my iPod, and cleared my throat. "Uh no. I-I mean feel free."

She smiled, and took the seat to my right. "So what are you listening to?"

I shrugged. "Just a song from a video game." I said simply.

"Really?" She asked tilting her head. "What game?"

"It's the ending song from Devil May Cry 3." I replied, and to my surprise, her eyes lit up.

"You're a fan?" She almost shouted.

"Yeah." I replied, feeling a little more relaxed than I was a few seconds earlier. "I take it you're a fan as well."

"Yup, loved Capcom since … Since my sister brought home the first Resident Evil."

"I know what you mean." I replied giving a small laugh, and opening my backpack. "My older brother while also a gun nut, got me and my little brother hooked on video games. The thing is, you and I have something in common."

"And that would be?"

"If I am right in saying this, you got your start with Resident Evil." I said to which she nodded. "So did I, and my love of Resident Evil is so big that… Well see for yourself." I pulled the replica of Barry Burton's Beretta out of my backpack.

"Holy hell, where did you get that!?" She asked. Eyes wide with jealousy and admiration.

"My friend Pat had it made special for me. Him and I used to play Resident Evil 5 all the time, and oddly enough, he doesn't just work for this company, he's the one who recruited me." I said proudly. "I'm Alex by the way. Alex Morrison."

She smiled, and extended her hand. "Clare Valentine. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." I replied, as I shook her hand. "So what brings you here?"

Clare tilted her head when I asked my question. "What do you mean?" She asked.

"Sorry, what sort of monster did you kill to get you recruited?" I clarified.

"Ohhhh that. I went up against an Ookami."

"You mean a Japanese Werewolf?" I asked.

"Yeah. Killing that thing wasn't easy." She replied.

I tilted my head curiously. "How did you kill it? Stab it seven times with a bamboo dagger, that was blessed by a Shinto Priest?"

"Oh _someone_ watches _Supernatural_ too much." She laughed.

I laughed along with her, and the more I got to know Clare, the more perfect she seemed to me. "Alright so how did you kill it?"

"I stuffed it into a wood chipper." She said with a wink.

I had to stifle my laughter on that last remark. "Oh _now_ who's the one who watches _Supernatural_ too much?"

"Hey a wood chipper pretty much beats anything." She replied, holding her own laughter back.

"There's gotta be a story there." I said, as I leaned forward in my seat.

"Yeah there is." Clare said stretching before she spoke again. "So it's about 1am, so you know the parties have just started. But I'm tired, and I want to go to sleep at this point. And that's if you'll believe me here, this son of a bitch jumps off a roof, a _roof_ of a building like something out of the _Underworld_ movies, and lands right on the hood of my car."

"Ohh shit." I said, clearly invested in Clare's story, but for some odd reason I found myself wishing I had a bucket of popcorn.

"Oh yeah, and this thing tries to punch through my windshield … and he succeeds. Grabs the steering wheel, and steers us right into some sort of construction area. But the dumb son of a bitch can't see where he's going, and ends up pinning himself between my car and this concrete pillar. I stumble out of my car trying to get away, and then I hear this horrible crunching noise. The Ookami didn't just get his arm clear of my car's windshield, but it's pushing my car away from him and that pilar."

"Holy shit, these things sound dangerous." I said, and in the back of my mind I hoped that I didn't run into one of those.

"Yeah, and the second it gets clear of the position it was in a few seconds ago lunges at me. Actually got in a good hit." At that, Clare lifted the right side of her shirt. I felt my face go red, but my eyes widened in shock a second later. There were four long jagged scars along the right side of her abdomen from where the Ookami had wounded her.

"An inch or two deeper, and I wouldn't be here right now." Clare said, pulling her shirt down as she spoke. "But when he slashed me, I stumble back and hit the ground pretty hard. Shoulders were black and blue for a month from that, but it wasn't anything to what that thing had just done to me. Anyways, I stumbled back up and tried to make a run for it. I make it into to the foundation of this building that my car had crashed into, I know that he's right behind me, and I react basically out of pure instinct. I duck behind a pillar not a second too soon, his left claw took this huge chunk out of the concrete, but I hear it's hand break."

"Let me guess, you turned and ran in the opposite way?" I asked, I mean it's what I would have done.

"Bingo." Clare said. "I ran my ass off, thinking if I can get back to my car, I can get the hell out of there. But that Ookami has a healing factor like Wolverine's. Next thing I know, this white light pops up behind my eyes, and there's this horrible pain in my lower back."

"It tackled you." I said, more matter-of-factly rather than questioningly.

"Right again. It tackled me to the dirt, and when I can see properly again, the Ookami is on top of me, claws raised ready to tear me apart." Clare shuddered at the memory. "But, it didn't count on the fact that I had somehow gotten my hands on a piece of rebar. I hit it in the side of the head, as hard as I could, and if you can believe this, it goes stiff as a board and falls to the ground."

"Nice, you must have a pretty good swing." I said nodding in appreciation. "But I'm guessing that since we haven't gotten through the part with the wood chipper, the Ookami got back up?"

"Yup." Said Clare. "So when I finally get back to my feet, so does the Ookami. At this point I'm thinking that this is just not fair, right before it once again lunges at me. I duck, and the thing goes headlong into the woodchipper in question. It somehow manages to turn it on, and thinking quick, I hit it with the piece of rebar I still had in my hands. It goes in, gets ground up, and that's the last thing I remember before waking up in the hospital."

"Damn, that's one crazy night." I said impressed.

"So what's the story behind your being here?" Clare asked.

I exhaled, after Clare's story about dealing with that Ookami, mine seemed to pale in comparison. "I hit a Vampire in the side of the head with an axe, staked him through the heart, then crushed him in a trash compactor." I replied, to a clearly impressed Clare. However all conversation was cut off, as several people stepped onto the stage. On the far left, was a very attractive blonde, next to her was a man with dark skin, with his hair tied into dreadlocks. I recognised Julie easily, and standing next to her was a bear of a man. Next to the bear, stood a man with sandy blonde hair, with a leather bomber jacket, and a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. Next to him, was another attractive woman, only she had long red hair, and her eyes were slightly fixed on the blonde guy. And finally on the far right, stood another large man who was completely bald, but had a long red beard, and wire rimmed glasses.

The man with sandy blonde hair and the cigarette stepped forward, and began to speak. "Thank you all for coming, and welcome to M.H.I. For those of you who haven't met me, I'm Earl Harbinger. Director of Operations here at M.H.I. Now, weather it was by myself, or another hunter, each and every one of you here was contacted and offered you a job here, after you survived some sort of encounter with a monster. Now I know that some of you are wondering why you were picked. You might think that you aren't strong, or tough, or brave, or anything along those lines. However let me tell you this, the mere fact that you survived an encounter with a monster speaks volumes in and of itself."

A murmur went through the crowd of people, but conversation was cut off once again, as Earl spoke up once more. "But people, I ain't gonna sugar coat it. Monster hunting is probably the most dangerous profession in the world. I'm sure you all saw the plaques in the hallway. Each of those represents a fallen Hunter, hell the mortality rate for a first year hunter is so low, you don't want to know. Hell I wouldn't be surprised if anyone here walked out right now."

The room stayed silent, and not a single person moved. "No? Alright then listen up. Some of you might be former law enforcement, or former military. Many of you have had no training at all. Let me clarify. Every one of you will undergo the same training regardless of what your background is. Listen to everything your instructors say. Every piece of information. No piece of knowledge is useless knowledge here."

"Now some of you are going to wash out. Some will be kicked out. But mostly, a lot of you are going to quit. And before you try to doubt me, it's going to happen. Those of you that do walk out, will be compensated for your time. But those of you who complete your training will be assigned a Hunter Team. Each team responds to monster outbreaks, and other events as they happen. Some of you will be assigned to support said teams. Intelligence gathering, or interfering with the local law enforcement can be more difficult at times than killing monsters. Now are there any questions? No? Alright then. Let's get started."

The next four months were brutal as hell. I did nothing but train to hunt, fight, and kill all manner of monster. The classroom sections were boring, but they were mercy compared to all the obstacle courses, and the cross-country runs. Now my dad always said that compared his military training, any manual labor myself and my two brothers had to do, was nothing. But MHI's training, could make any form of military training seem like a walk in the park. (Plus I could take my dad's little lecture, and throw it back at him.) Also, while I said that some parts of the training were difficult, others were downright disgusting. Like learning to stake and decapitate undead creatures. Oh and the Gut Crawl… I will never say what that entails, hell I'll take that to my grave.

However, four months to the day that the training started, it was finally over. I was standing in the cafeteria, along with some 30 other newly graduated Hunters. And I was happy to see that Clare had made it as well. All of us were wearing the standard MHI issued armor, which was made out of heavy duty Kevlar, Nomex, and several ceramic plates. Just as he had done four months ago, Earl Harbinger was standing in front of the rest of us.

"Congratulations. You all made it. You're all hunters now." He said as he took out a piece of paper from his jacket. "Now here are all your Hunter Teams."

Earl rambled off names, as Clare and I had a small conversation to ourselves.

"Nice to see you didn't wash out." I told her, as we bumped fists.

"Likewise. So where do you think you'll go?" She asked.

"You know, I never really thought about that." I replied.

Clare was about to say something, but Earl's voice rang out. "Martin's team, Syracuse New York: Morrison, Marston, Valentine."

I couldn't believe it. Not only was I going home, Clare and I got assigned to the same team. We smiled at each other, and bumped fists once again.

"Well there you go. You have your teams, and you'll leave first thing tomorrow. Congratulations, and once again. Welcome to MHI.


	6. Chapter 6 Unwelcome guest

Chapter 6. Unwelcome guest

Like it had been four months ago, it was a two day drive from Cazador up to Syracuse. It was me in my Cobra, Clare in her Subaru Baja, and James (the other person who was assigned to our team) driving a Jeep Wrangler. The three of us had gotten into the city I grew up in late in the afternoon. Now James was a pretty cool guy. He was from Atlanta, stood at 5'11, had his blonde hair cut into a mohawk, and his entire left arm was covered in a sleeve tattoo adorned with multiple skulls. He had a love for explosives, s he had blasted a Werewolf into a billion pieces by shoving a grenade into it's chest. (Where he got said grenade I'll never know.) Anyway, we had just gotten into Syracuse, when James' voice cracked over the walkie-talkie that I had stashed in the small slot under my car's radio.

"Hey Alex. You said you grew up here, so you know anywhere good to eat?" He asked.

"Yeah." I replied. "Follow me."

I guided the other two members of my team off the highway, and towards the town of Liverpool. Now anyone who lives in Syracuse, especially Liverpool knows about the one place that everybody loves going to. Those of you who don't, I highly reccomend that you go to _Heids_ in Liverpool if you're ever in Syracuse.

The three of us groaned happily as we stepped out of our cars. Yeah sure we had stayed in a kick-ass suite the night before, as we were not short on cash for it. But anyone who has driven a long distance for a long amount of time will tell you; it takes it's toll, and leaves you cramped up.

"I love my car, but I think my ass fell asleep." I groaned, as I twisted in an attempt to losten the knot in my back.

"I second that." James said stretching.

"Hell I third that." Clare replied leaning against the door of her Subaru.

After about a 10 minute wait in line ( _and there was always a line at Heids_ ), we finally got our food. Clare just ordered a single hot dog and fries. I got two conies, a hot dog, two orders of fries, and a pickle. James on the other hand. Sweet Jesus, this guy I swear inhaled food. He ordered three conies, three hotdogs, an order of cheese fries, an order regular fries, two cheese burgers, and a pickle. We had just sat down outside, when Pat, Isabelle, and two others joined us at our table.

"Alright, gang's all here." Isabelle said smiling. "Glad to see you took up that offer Alex."

"Glad to have you on the team." Pat said as we bumped fists.

Clare and James looked to me, requesting an explination. "Pat and Isabelle are the ones who recruited me." I said. as Clare and James shook their hands.

"I'm Patrick Martin." Pat said. "I'm team leader here. Isabelle's our team medic. Now the big unhappy guy." He pointed to another man, another bear of a man like Owen. (the guy who I saw on the stage at orientation, and one of the more hardcore instructors. That's not to say that the other instructors weren't hardcore, but Owen was a damn machine.) His black hair was buzzed, and he had indeed a sour expression. "That's Dimitri, our sharpshooter."

Dimitri noded in our direction. "Preevyeht." He said either with a Russian or Ukrainian accent.

The other man, who was wearing a Yankee's hat on backwards, had on a black zip up hoodie, and a slightly torn up pair of camo pants, clapped Dimitri on the shoulder. "Aw lighten up big guy."

I swear Dimitri's expression soured. "I lighten up when I shoot something." He replied curtly.

"Suit yourself." The other guy said with a shrug. "Anyway, my name's Connor. I'm our heavy weapons expert up here. If it puts a lot of holes in something at a high rate of fire, then I'm happy."

The three of us shook Connor and Dimitri's hands, as they sat down, and we all dug in. I noticed that Connor and Dimitri, had trays that were piled just as if not higher than James'.

"So," Connor started. "What did you end up eighty sixing Alex?"

I chuckled softly. "Story time huh?" I asked, to which Connor nodded. "I killed a Vampire, by hitting it in the head with an axe. After he broke the haft, I staked him in the heart, and pushed him into a trash compactor."

Connor smiled widely. "Oh tell me you crushed him. Please tell me you crushed him."

I sighed and rolled my eyes, but smiled. "Yeah I crushed him."

"Nice job." He said, and I also saw Dimitri nod his approval. "Bagging a Vamp ain't easy."

"Well he still kicked my ass." I said, but Connor waved me off.

"That's because you had no training yet. We come across another one, I'm sure you'll tear it to pieces." Somehow I got the feeling, that Connor was more than just a little enthusiastic about Monster Hunting.

"So what about you?" Connor asked, turning his attention to Clare.

"Oh me? I um … Killed an Ookami, by stuffing it into a woodchipper." She replied shyly. But at her words, the team's eyes widened.

"An Ookami?" Isabelle asked. "Outside of Japan?"

Clare suddenly looked worried. "Is that bad."

Isabelle shook her head. "Nothing really to worry about, it's just whenever a call has come in about one, it's normally in Japan."

Finally, Connor looked to James. "Well what about you big guy?"

James swallowed the food that was in his mouth, before answering. "Werewolf. Blew the fucker's chest open with a shotgun, then stuffed a grenade in the cavity before it was fully healed."

I swear when James said that last part, Connor almost fell out of his seat. That or creamed his pants. Either way, after that it was pretty much all quiet as we finished eating. Of course, Connor, Dimitri, and James practically inhaled their food, big surprise there. As we made our way back to our cars, I noticed that someone was sitting slightly on the hood of mine. The man was dressed in a slightly casual suit, and kind of reminded me from Jason Bly from _Burn Notice_.

"Can I help you?" I asked as I approached him.

"Well that depends." He replied. "Are you Alex Morrison?"

I eyed the guy warily. "Well that depends. Who are you?"

He reached into his jacket pocket, and my right hand went towards my Beretta.

"A little jumpy are we?" He asked as he pulled what looked like a wallet out of his jacket pocket. "Agent Creed. I'm with the F.B.I." He flashed his credentials, but I didn't take my hand off of my Beretta.

"Why are you looking for me Agent Creed?" "I asked, as my grip on my Beretta tightened.

"I'd like you to come with me." He said.

"Again Agent. Why?"

"I'm arresting you for murder."

"Murder!?" I asked incredulously. "Murdered who!?"

Agent Creed scowled slightly. "Recall eight months ago, you crushed someone to death in a trash compactor."

"Yeah." I replied. "That was ruled as self-defense. The case is closed."

"Well consider it open again. Now come with me."

I shook my head, and smirked slightly. "Nah, I think I'll pass."

Agent Creed scowled again. "Your mistake is you think you have a god damn choice boy."

"And your mistake, is you came here without backup." I replied, as several guns were drawn and pointed at Agent Creed. I saw Pat with a SIG P220, Isabelle had a 1911, so did Connor. Clare was pointing a S&W 1026, at the Agent, and Dimitri to my surprise had an MP412 Rex. To my credit, I drew my Beretta 6F and leveled it at Creed's head. "Like I said asshole. I'll pass."

Agent Creed might have been an asshole, but he wasn't stupid. "I'll be back Mr. Morrison." He sneered. "And I'll have backup." He got into a black BMW and drove off.

"Looking forward to it jackass. But I'd bring some heavy weapons with you." I sneered and holstered my pistol, before getting into my Cobra.

It was about a 20 minute drive, to M.H.I's compound in Syracuse. Which I found out was the old rock crusher. Again, for those of you who don't know what that is. It was an old munitions factory during World War II. It had a horrible accident, where a multitude of workers were doused with acid. Since then the place has been haunted. Or it was until M.H.I. had come along and renovated the place. Now the old rock crusher was used as the main building, and they had cut into the stone, to make room for the barracks, garage, and armory.

"Alright." Pat said as we parked our cars. "Just pick a room new guys."

We made our way to the barracks, which were pretty decent if I do say so. Each seemed like a Presedential suite in a 5 star hotel. I'm talking, carpeted floors, large flat screen tv's mounted to the wall, a mini bar (I swear Pat had something to do with that). Each room had a kick-ass bathroom, a foot locker for our equipment, and most importantly; a very comfy bed. I took a room on the left side of the barracks, tossed my clothes into a pile next to my bed, and was asleep by the time my head hit the pillow.


	7. Chapter 7 First contact

Chapter 7. First contact

I had a crazy dream. I was on the roof of some sort of building, I had my G36 in my hands, drum mag locked in, and I was gripping it tightly as a horde of Zombies made it's way towards me. I opened fire at them, aiming for their heads, just like we were taught during training. The Zombies dropped like flies, but more kept coming. The 100 round magazine clicked empty, so I pulled the trigger on the under-mounted M203 grenade launcher. Several Zombies vanished in an explosion of fire and shrapnel. It bought me some time to reload, so I hit the mag release, and slammed another 100 round drum mag in. I opened fire, and more Zombies went down, but more and more just kept coming. It was an endless wall of flesh, that was slowly advancing, and I had nowhere to go. Just like the first magazine, the second clicked empty and there was no time to reload. I dropped the assault rifle, and pulled out my Spas 12. I cycled the action, and pulled the trigger. Zombies dropped, as undead flesh and blood was splattered everywhere. However after 8 shots, my shot gun clicked empty, and I somehow had lost track of my XM8. So I reached for my Beretta, and got 15 shots off before that too clicked empty. The Zombies were on me, and I had nothing left but a fragmentation grenade. Realizing that I was out of options, I grabbed the grenade and pulled the pin.

I woke up with a start and drenched in cold sweat. I gave my entire body a pat down, as I had woken up after the grenade exploded. I sighed in relief, when I realized that everything was still attached.

"Just a bad dream." I said as I set my head back down against my pillow, but a second later, I had my Beretta in my hand, safety snapped off. The door to my room had opened, and someone stepped inside.

"Woah, easy there cowboy." I flicked the safety back on, as I realized it was Clare.

"Sorry Clare." I said as I lowered my gun. "I'm a little jumpy."

"I can see that." She replied. "What caused that?"

I sighed, and sat up. "This really weird dream I had."

"Weird how?" She asked.

I explained my dream to her, sparing no detail. It didn't take all that long, but it seemed to freak her out a bit. "All those Zombies… A-and you ran out of ammo?" She asked, very shakily.

"Don't forget I had that grenade." I replied.

"Yeah… Wow that would scare anyone. You don't think that this dream's gonna come true do you?"

"I'm not wishing on any stars just in case." I replied. To which Clare laughed.

"You smartass." She said smiling slightly.

I shrugged lightly. "Yes and?" I yelped slightly as Clare threw my jeans in my face.

"Come on and get dressed. You don't wanna miss breakfast."

I smiled, got dressed, and followed Clare towards the kitchen, which was located on the second floor. While M.H.I. had cut into the rock for the barracks, garage, and armory, they had also added two other floors. A rec room on the second, and the kitchen was the top. There was a large circular table in the center, and several members of the team were already there. James was already inhaling his food, Dimitri was saying a prayer over his, and Connor was cleaning a big M60 LMG.

"Oh hey there's the axe man!" Connor exclaimed. I looked at him quizzically. "Oh I have nicknames for the entire team. You're the axe man, Clare is redwood, Dimitri is the silent joker, James is fireball, Belle is life water, and Pat is Guinness."

I smiled slightly at that last one. Pat always loved his Guinness, so it made sense in an odd way even if he can't really hold his liquor. I took a seat next to Dimitri, who noded. Isabelle scowled, as she set a plate of food in front of Clare and I.

"Connor, how many times have I told you? No guns at breakfast." She scolded in an almost mother like tone.

"Aw come on Belle." Connor whined, causing me to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

"Connor. Gun down."

Connor groaned and leaned the LMG against the table. That caused Clare and I to laugh, before we dug in. But something from yesterday that I had put towards the back of my mind, suddenly came to the surface. "Out of curiosity, anyone have any idea how what's-his-name? ...Agent Creed found me?"

"I was just about to tell you that Alex." Said Isabelle, as she took a seat at the table. I stared at who I believed to be Pat's second in command, putting aside how hungry I was at the moment. "I did a little digging last night, and I found out that Agent Terry Creed is the elder brother of Core Creed."

"Okay, but what does that have to do with… Ohhhh…" It suddenly clicked. Creed knew what had happened because his little brother Corey Creed was the vampire that had attacked me in the Wegmans back room eight months ago. That explained why Creed wanted to arrest me, he wanted justice for his younger brother. In a way I sympathized with him, if anything happened to John, Thom, or Katie I'd be pissed off beyond reason.

"Still though, even if he want's to get his hands on Alex, he's gonna have a hell of a time trying to get to him." Connor said through a mouthful of food.

"Don't talk with your mouth full." Isabelle said with a roll of her eyes.

Connor paused, swallowed then resumed speaking a moment later. "Sorry, but the 'case' against you was ruled as self-defense axe man. Creed's gonna have to pull a real big rabbit out of his hat, if he wants to get his hands on you. Plus you really don't have much to worry about. The MCB'll shut Creed down, if he continues digging."

"He's right." Said Isabelle. "Creed only know's the 'official story' of how his little brother dies. He's not read in on the supernatural, so if he continues, the MCB will intervene."

"Then that's good enough for me." I said, going back to my breakfast. But unfortunately, there was no time to savor my food. Pat had come in a few seconds later, looking like he had a purpose.

"Finish your food, and grab your gear. We got us a game."

All eyes were locked on Pat. "Where and what?" Dimitri asked.

"It's the Crucible factory by the fairgrounds. We're dealing with a nasty Vampire."

I felt my blood turn to ice, as Pat told us what we would be up against. A Vampire as my first hunt, I never expected that to happen.

"What do we need boss?" Connor asked excitedly.

"This is a Vampire we're going up against." Pat said plainly. "That means Wights, and plenty of them. So bring everything."

I was about to get up, when Dimitri stopped both Clare and I. "I have gifts for you." He said, as he set down a KA-BAR, and a big almost oversized Khukri blade on the table. "My way of saying welcome to the team." He said before he got up, and headed for the armory.

I picked up both knives, and held them in front of me. "Well ladies get first pick." I said smiling.

"Well well, such the gentleman." She said as she took the KA-BAR, and I grabbed the Khukri.

The team was silent as we got our gear on. Pat had an M4 assault rifle with Halo sights, he placed a 30 round magazine in the rifle, and put eight more into the pouches on the chest plate of his armor. His Sig p220 went into a holster on his thigh, and a dozen more mags went into the slots along his belt. He placed a double edged M-9 bayonet into the holster on his left boot, and slid a large bolo machete into a scabbard on his armors back.

Isabelle had an H&K UMP, with a side mounted laser sight, she had another dozen rounds on her armor's chest plate, just like Pat's. I thought she only had one 1911, but she had two of them, and had them holstered on two hip holsters. Another two dozen mags went around her belt. She also places some sort of cylindrical object below her 1911 on her right.

Connor had his M60 LMG loaded with a 200 round ammo belt, then had five more plastic boxes loaded onto the pouches on his belt. He also rocked two Remington double barrel sawed off's crossed behind him, and the sleeves of his armor were covered in shells. His 1911 was placed under his left armpit, and he had a backup .357 snub nose holstered above his right boot. So I wasn't the only one who had a backup that wasn't up to the MHI ammo specs.

James who had purchased both of the shotguns he had with him at Moss Pawn and Gun in Georgia loaded his benelli tactical shotgun with Frag 12 shells, and slung it over his shoulder into a scabbard along his back. He also loaded an AA12 automatic shotgun. "Incendiary rounds." He said with a smirk. I also noticed that there was an underbarrel launcher on his AA12. (I wondered how he got that on his assault shotgun, but we were going up against the supernatural, so I didn't question it. Hell one of Harbinger's sayings is "when in doubt, kill it with fire"). Slung along his left side was also an M32 semi-automatic grenade launcher. His chest and arms were loaded with shotgun shells, M203 rounds, and there were fragmentation grenades strapped along his belt. And holstered behind his back was a S&W 500.

Dimitri placed a 20 round magazine into his H&K 417 DMR, and loaded five more into his belt. He also had an AK-47 with what looked like a Trijicon RMR reflex sight, and laser precision sight strapped across his back. His MP412 REX was holstered along his chest, and there was a machete holstered behind his back, across his waist.

Clare loaded a SCAR-H PDW variant that was recommended while we were at MHI's main compound with a 30 round mag, and loaded 10 more into pouches on her armor. Her S&W 1026 went into a hip holster on her left, and another two dozen mags were stuffed into pouches along her belt. Her KA-BAR that Dimitri had given her was clipped to her belt on her right.

As for me, I loaded both my G3, and XM8 with their respective drum mags, loaded the underbarrel launcher with an M203 put six more 30 round mags into my armor, and slung my G3 across my back. I loaded 8 shells into my Spas, and slung it into a back scabbard across my back vertically. My left and right arms like James' were loaded with shells, and my right side was stuffed with M203 rounds. My Beretta was holstered behind my back, and like Clare had a full two dozen mags in my belt, while my new Kukri was placed on my left under my armpit.

We also were loaded with holy water, and white oak stakes. M.H.I. had serious issues with Vampires in the past, case in point, the Cursed One incident. So we weren't taking any chances. Despite the fact that this Vampire was being incredibly stupid making a move in broad daylight. Still though, even one Vampire was incredibly dangerous. We all looked at each other, and nodded to one another once.

We were ready.

We loaded up into several SUV's, and rolled out heading towards Syracuse's fairgrounds. It wasn't that bad of a drive, 10-15 minutes depending on what route you took. However, when we arrived, we saw a huge crowd gathered around the Crucible buildings.

"Oh damn. This is gonna be difficult to explain." I said slightly irritatedly.

"We won't have to." Isabelle said from the driver's seat. "Look who's here." She pointed, and we followed her gesture. Sure enough, we saw eyeing us with irritated stares, MCB Agent's Jefferson and Locke.

"Eh, these two aren't so bad." Connor said with a shrug. "At least they don't have Franks with them."

I'd heard stories about Agent Franks. If Owen was a bear, Franks was king fucking kong. I swear the guy got off on nothing more than killing things. Monster or otherwise, and he didn't blink when he pulled the trigger.

We stepped out of our SUV's, and made our way towards the Agent's. "Alright Agent Jefferson." Pat said as we approached. "What's the situation?"

Jefferson rolled his eyes as Pat spoke. "The 'situation' as you call it is under control by the MCB." He said evenly.

Now it was Pat who rolled his eyes, as he turned around to address us. "That means they got their asses kicked."

"You want to say that again you son of a bitch?" Agent Jefferson snarled, as his right hand swept to his side.

"You think clear leather and take me out?" Pat practically sneered, his right thumb slowly flicking off the safety on his M4.

"I'm a better shot than you." Agent Jefferson growled.

Pat countered by pressing the muzzle of his rifle to Agent Jefferson's throat. "Not at this range your useless ass isn't."

"Enough gentlemen." Said Agent Locke. He placed a hand on Pat's M4 and firmly lowered it away from Agent Jefferson. "Grant, Mr. Martin is correct, our men did get their asses handed to them in there. Let MHI handle this, while a part of me doesn't like to admit it, you hunters are more than able to handle situations like this. However if things go bad, we're going to have to level the place."

"Fair enough." Pat said, and I felt a shudder go up my spine.

As we moved past Agent's Jefferson and Locke, I brushed past my team, and tapped Pat's arm with the back of my hand. "What the hell was all that hostility towards Jefferson about?"

"You remember some of the instructor's talking about the Cursed One incident a few years ago?" Pat asked.

"Yeah. Jefferson was involved I take it?"

Pat noded. "Yeah. Well at the start of the whole thing, Earl's team went aboard this French ship, and Owen was trapped below deck with a powerful Master Vampire, and was trying to climb this ladder to get to the deck. Jefferson opened it, saw what was going on, and locked Owen inside. If it wasn't for Earl's intervention, Owen wouldn't be here."

I scoffed. "Damn, guy sounds like a real jackass."

"Yeah, and he acts like it too." Pat replied. "Anyways, he also ended up getting his ass kidnapped, and enthralled. That's what got his useless ass kicked out of MHI."

I gave a low whistle, as we approached the first building. "That sucks. So what's the plan?" I asked.

"The plan." Earl Harbinger's voice cracked over the com line. "Is you sit tight and wait for us."

We froze, and looked at each other. If Earl and his team were coming then this was some serious shit. A few minutes later Earl's team minus Julie came our way, followed by another hunter team. Earl made his way over to Pat and the rest of us, while his team, and the other team hung back.

"What brings you here boss?" Pat asked.

"The situation's changed Martin." Earl started. "And don't call me boss."

"Well what's so serious, that you're bringing in the Northeast team along with your own?"

"That Vampire is Susan Shackleford."

I felt a chill go down my spine at that. Susan was Julie's mother, and another one of the Master Vampire's in the Cursed One incident. She was turned by the then most powerful Master Vampire in existence. A Nazi General named Jager. Anyway, after the Cursed One incident, Jager was killed, and Susan got away. Also leaving her as the most powerful Master class Vampire in the world. If she was here, no wonder Earl brought backup.

Pat exhaled heavily, and ran a hand through his hair. Everyone seemed to know that the shit had hit the fan. But there was something that didn't quite add up.

"What's she doing in a nothing city like Syracuse?" I asked, and there was a collective murmur of agreement from my team.

"That's what we're here to find out Morrison." Earl replied. "So here's the plan. My team will take the north side of the grounds, Turner's team take the East, Martin you take this side. Clear every building until we find Suzan. And if you run across any Wights… Don't hesitate."

We nodded, as Earl and Turner's teams moved out. My team turned around, all eyes on Pat.

"Nothing's changed." He said evenly. "We go in, clear the building's and kill anything that moves. Now we move in two groups. Dimitri, James, Connor, you lead in. Clare, Alex, Isabelle, and myself will cover your six." We nodded in confirmation. "Head's on a swivel people. Move in."

The interior of the building was empty, but everything was covered in blood and gore. It looked like people had gotten caught in the crossfire in a fight between Jason, Freddy, and Leatherface.

"Well this is a pleasant sight." James said in a low voice, as him, Connor, and Dimitri made their way forward.

They didn't get two steps forward, before there was a horrible ear-piercing screech, and several dozen Wights charged at us.

"CONTACT!" James yelled, as he opened fire with his Benell, and blasted a Wight's head into chunks of undead flesh, and black blood.

Not a split second after James' first shot, did the rest of us open up on the Wights. A wall of silver slammed into the creatures, and ripped them to shreds within several seconds. Weapon's were reloaded, and the team made their way forward, scanning the area for movement.

"Martin's team reporting contact with Wights." Pat said over the com line.

"Turner's team reporting the same." A female voice said into our earpieces.

"Contact confirmed." Earl's voice said a moment later. "We ran into Wights in our building as well. No sign of Susan yet. Keep looking."

The team continued to sweep our way through multiple buildings, using a tried but true Spetznaz tactic. Close off the exits, and advance as fast as a glacier until we close in on our target. While there were plenty of Wights, there was no sign of Susan Shackleford, and the other team's hadn't seen her either. After several hours, there was only one building left for us to clear. All 3 teams moved in on the last building and as one, we breached the doors in three separate locations.

The building's interior like the first, was covered in blood, but it was also packed with Wights. I couldn't count how many, and standing in the center of the room, was almost an exact duplicate of Julie. So that was Susan Shackleford. She smiled with sickening over confidence as she seemed to see all three teams.

"Well it's about time you got here. I was getting bored." She said in a slight Alabama accent.

 _Jeez what an over confidant bitch._ I thought, but then reminded myself that she was now the most powerful vampire in existance.

"I heard that kid." Suzan shot at me. I flipped her off. "Not very smart are you? You don't piss off a Master Vampire in a room full of Wights. You're outnumbered."

"Well you were a hunter once, and I bet you were in plenty of situations like this." I spat back. "For a Master Vampire you're pretty stupid. You should know that you're outclassed."

"You know? I just came here to have a little fun, but now I think I'm gonna eat you before I go." Suzan growled, and I leveled my XM8 at her head. _You want me bitch? See how fast you can move, before you run into a wall of silver._

"Oh this is gonna be fun." She said with a fanged smile.


	8. Chapter 8 Full of surprises

Chapter 8. Full of surprises

Everything exploded into violence, the Wights charged at all three teams, at the same time everyone opened fire. Most were aiming for the Wights. However, Earl, Owen, and myself were attempting to shoot Susan, who was moving incredibly fast. Too fast for any of us to land a clean hit. _Shit, we're aiming for where she is. Not where she's going to be_.

"Oh now you pick up on it kid." Susan said over the roar of gunfire.

"You are so fucking annoying." I growled.

"Aw am I getting under your skin?" She asked with an annoying mocking tone. But she yelped in surprise and pain, when a hail of buckshot and silver bullets slammed into her from Earl and Owen's guns.

"No but _they_ sure as hell did." I said with a smirk, but my stomach lurched in surprise and fear, when something grabbed my arm and pulled.

The second I got control of my feet, I whirled around gun leveled, but refrained from shooting, when I saw Clare where I was a second ago blasting away at several Wights with her SCAR PDW.

"Woah easy there cowboy." She said not taking her eyes off the Wights.

"Sorry Clare." I replied, as I began providing support fire. "I'm a little jumpy."

"MORRISON SHE'S ON YOUR SIX!" Earl shouted over the gunfire, and time seemed to slow as I turned around.

Something hard collided with the left side of my face, sending me flying across the room. I impacted the wall on the far side, and I hit that wall hard. I slowly slid down the wall and onto the floor, as I heard a pair of high heels click along the concrete floor. I felt a strong hand wrap around my throat, and hoist me into the air.

"I told you I was going to eat you." Susan snarled, as she bared her fangs at me.

"Eat this bitch." I snarled myself, as my right fist collided with Susan's left cheek with all the strength I could manage. Aparently it was enough force to not only get her to let me go, but send her flying back.

"Now that was a surprise kid." Susan said.

I scoffed as I got up. "You'll find I'm full of surprises bitch."

"You really want to go toe to toe with a Master Vampire?" She asked with a sick smirk.

I had no idea what prompted me to unclasp all my weapons, and drop into a fighting stance, but something told me I could take her on. I smirked as I moved my hands in a 'come and get me' gesture. Susan snarled and charged at me, however she wasn't moving as fast as she was when we were shooting at her. No it was more like she was moving slower, almost like she was moving like she was human. I stepped to the side, and she passed by harmlessly. At that time I delivered a hard roundhouse kick to the center of her back, sending her flying once again. Suzan growled, as she came to a stop, and we began circling each other like a couple of predators fighting over a piece of meat. And in this case, I was both predator _and_ meat. Suzan charged, and launched a flurry of punches at me, but like before she was moving too slow. I blocked the punches that I was unable to dodge, and I saw that it was clearly irritating Susan. Like before I sidestepped her strike, and dug my heel into her stomach when I delivered a spin kick. When she doubled over, I caught her in the face with another roundhouse. That kick sent her sprawling to the ground. I quickly retrieved my Beretta, and pointed it at Susan's head.

"Don't you move." I snarled, as my team as well as the other two Hunter Teams circled around Susan, not giving her any room to breathe. I holstered my Beretta, when Pat handed me my XM8

"Not bad Earl." Suzan said unfazed. "You trained that kid well."

"Yeah he's good." Earl replied. "But what about you?"

"Why I'm here? I'm here to deliver a warning." She replied. "I'm here to deliver a warning."

"And that entails a downtown factory full of Wights?" Owen spat.

Susan shook her head. "No that was just me having a little fun."

Earl growled, and leveled his Tommy subgun. "What's the warning Suzy?"

"Something's coming for us Earl. Coming for all of us. Hunter and Monster." Susan replied.

"And what would that be?"

"The Appocalypse." She said simply, before a white flash blinded all of us, and our ears were ringing loudly. When we all could see and hear again, Suzan had gone. She used a flashbang to distract us as she made her getaway. Everyone was pissed, that Susan had gotten away. Everyone except for Earl, who seemed unusually calm despite the fact that the most powerful Master Vampire had gotten away, and had delivered some heavy news about the end of the world coming.

The rest of the team had been given me odd looks ever since I traded punches with Susan. Hell I didn't even know what to make of it. We had exited the factory, and had regrouped at our vehicles. Both M.H.I. and M.C.B. were discussing what Susan had said. I wasn't paying attention to any of it. I was sitting in the trunk of one of our SUV's, going over how I was able to not only go toe to toe with Susan, but actually win that fight. I was so lost in thought, I hadn't become aware that someone had joined me until I heard them speak.

"Hey there cowboy." Clare said softly. "Pretty crazy for our first job huh?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah real crazy." I replied.

"So any explenation on how you were able to do that?" She asked me.

"No." I replied. "And that's what's bothering me. I have no idea how I kicked her ass, or why she was moving so slow."

"Um Alex about that…" She started, and something in her voice said that something was off.

"What do you mean?"

"Susan wasn't moving slow. You were moving faster than she was."

"I… What… How… You… Huh!?" My brain had come to a screeching halt, and was unable to to process speech. _How the hell could I have been moving faster? I'm just human._ I was shocked, so shocked that I didn't notice the third person who joined me.

"Hey kid." Earl said. I looked up and noded.

"Earl." I replied. "What's going on?"

"With what? Susan and her message? Or you beating the tar out of her?"

"Yes." I replied automatially.

"Smartass." Earl scoffed.

I smiled slightly. "Yeah I get that. So what's going on?"

"Well until we get some hard evidence on Susan's warning, we can't do much with it. But as for you whoopin' her ass, I know why. But it ain't my place to say."

"Well whose place is it boss?" I asked, and I couldn't stop the irritated edge that crept into my voice.

Earl took out his lighter, and lit the cigarette in his mouth. He took a long drag before speaking again. "Hate to say it, but I can't tell you that either. But you'll find out soon."

I looked from Earl to Clare, and shrugged. "Well at least I'm gonna get some answers."


	9. Chapter 9 What comes next

Chapter 9. What comes next.

Not 24 hours after our encounter with Suzan, did we get a report about a den (yes a den) of Werewolves in Albany. Earl's team as well as the Northeast team had gone with us. Hey it was an entire den of Werewolves, I wasn't about to complain about having backup. We got out of that den covered from head to foot in blood and gore, but other than that, not a scratch. Unfortunately one of the Werewolves had destroyed my XM8, which pissed me off to the point of shoving the barrel of my Spas 12 down its throat, and splattering its brains on the opposite wall. That little stunt caught the approval of one of the Northeast Hunters. A guy named Steve Cooper. He was one of my instructors during my four month training in Cazador (also the owner of that kick-ass blue GTO I saw when I first came to Cazador), and as it turned out, he got into M.H.I. by decapitating a Vampire with a shotgun the same way I killed that Werewolf.

Of course there was still the matter of replacing my XM8. I wanted to get my hands on another one, but H&K didn't manufacture the XM8 anymore, and I had lucked out when Brian sold me that particular one several months ago. However the real pain in the ass were the suggested replacements. Pat suggested that I go with an M4 like his. I don't mind the M4, but come on would a little variety be too much to ask? Dimitri tried to suggest an H&K 417. Like the M4, I didn't mind the suggestion, but again variety. Plus I didn't know weather the 417 could be modified into an AR platform. Unlike several Hunters, I wasn't a gun nut, and had little to know knowledge about firearms despite my dad being the badass he is. Isabelle, and the team leader from M.H.I's Northeast team Dominique Turner said I should go with a subgun like the MP5, but I passed on that suggestion too. Subguns really aren't my thing. However Steve, once he got done drooling over my Spas, suggested that I go with an H&K G3 rifle. Now something clicked when he suggested that. The G3 was produced in 1958, and despite production (like my old XM8) having stopped in 1997, there were plenty floating around in the US, and could be modified to fire .308 rounds. Even better, was the fact that I didn't have to order it. There were parts for one in our armory, and Milo Anderson (A member of Earl's team with the long red 'Duck Dynasty' beard) had offered to construct it for me.

A day after Milo got to work on my G3, I was taking a walk to Lost Lake. It was in the same area as the old rock crusher, and about a 10 maybe 15 minute walk away. Earl's words about getting answers as to how I was able to kick Susan's ass were still ringing in my head. He said I was going to get them soon, but he didn't specify _how soon._ Of course thinking about what Earl had said was kind of driving me crazy, so that was why I was on this little walk. I needed to clear my head. Plus to make things better, was the fact that Clare had decided to come with me.

"So I never asked." I started. "Where are you from?"

"Florida." She responded. "More specifically Miami."

"Nice. So have you ever met The Rock?"

"A few times. He's a real nice guy, he even got me tickets to WrestleMania 29."

My eyes widened, and I stumbled a couple times before regaining my balance. "You are so fucking lucky! I had to bust ass for two years to get those tickets!"

"Well maybe I can see if he'll hook me up with an extra ticket this year." She said with a playful wink.

It was all I could do to keep the blush from my cheeks. The more I got to know Clare, the more she became the woman of my dreams. "Well not to be outdone, my aunt lives in Orlando and can get into Disney World for free."

Now it was Clare's turn to loose her balance. "Oh bullshit. How can that happen?"

"She's gone so many times, park security is pretty much just: 'you again? Just go.' And they wave her on through. And I have never payed to get in." I replied smiling.

"If we ever do a mission in Florida, we have to go to Orlando. I've never been to Disney World." She said almost ashamed.

"Hey I'm not gonna judge. While I grew up here, I've never been to Dinosaur Barbeque." I replied.

"Oh you are missing out big time."

"Yeah so I've heard."

We had made it to the lake by then, and we were surprised to find Steve and his new fiance Odette were already there. We made our way over to them, and our conversations split between jealousy over being able to get into Disney World for free, Steve wanting the chance to shoot my Spas (I told him that as soon as I got to drive his beast of a GTO I'd let him shoot my Spas), and wondering how this place was haunted. I explained that it was no longer haunted, but when that accident happened, some spirits of the deceased workers didn't cross over. Plus some stupid people had performed satanic rituals up here, making the paranormal activity worse.

Steve let out a low whistle.

Clare shook her head, as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

Odette simply muttered the word "Idiots."

I nodded, as we were about to head back to the main building, when all four of us heard a low growl that sounded like a large predatory cat.

"Alex, are there any mountain lions around here?" Clare asked, with a slightly nervous tone.

"No." I replied almost automatically.

"Then what made that sound?"

The growling only intensified, and all four of us turned to see what looked like a large panther wreathed in purple flames.

"HELL CAT!" We all screamed at the same time, as we drew our sidearms and fired.

The Hell Cat snarled and charged at us, even as silver bullets slammed into it's muscular legs and back. We all rolled to one side, as it dove at us and we came up firing again. My Beretta clicked empty, so I hit the mag release, and dumped a fresh one in. I sighted on the back of the Hell Cat's hind legs, and squeezed the trigger. I smiled as the back of it's legs erupted in a fountain of black blood, and the Hell Cat snarled in pain. Clare, Steve, and Odette reloaded simultaniously, and opened up on the Hell Cat, emptying their mags into its head. Now headless, the remains of the Hell Cat toppled to the ground, black blood oozing out of the stump that was once its head.

"You know. I thought Hell Cat's were supposed to be harder to kill than that." I said.

"And aren't they supposed to be the size of a bus?" Clare asked.

A loud roar answered her question, and a full sized Hell Cat charged at us. Or more specifically me. The large flaming panther knocked into me, also knocking the wind out of me. The Hell Cat slammed me to the dirt, I tried to bring my gun up to shoot it in the face, but my Beretta clicked empty, and I had only brought a single extra magazine with me. A large paw swatted my Beretta out of my hand, as it roared in my face. I heard Clare, Steve, and Odette scream my name, as the larger Hell Cat prepared to bite my face off. But it was stopped short when someone called out to it in an Irish Accent.

"OI SHIT FOR BRAINS!"

The Hell Cat turned to see who had stopped it from killing me, when the sound of an automatic weapon fired, and a wall of silver slammed into the full grown creature's side and head, tearing it to pieces.

"Get the fuck off my grandson."

 _Grandson!?_ I sat up and looked in the direction of where the shots came from. My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when I saw who it was. Standing on a ledge on the far side of the lake, dressed in M.H.I armor, holding a Thomson submachine gun with a drum mag, and a cigar hanging from his mouth was Marcus Morrison.

My Grandfather.


	10. Chapter 10 Getting answers

Chapter 10. Getting answers

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I thought my grandfather had died years ago, and here he was in M.H.I's armor, having just killed a fully grown Hell Cat like it was no big deal. He walked up to me, and pulled me to my feet.

"Alright boy, let's have a look at you." He said as he dusted off my jacket, and began sizing me up. "I see that M.H.I did a decent job of getting you into shape." He chuckled and retrieved my Beretta. Luckily the Hell Cat hadn't destroyed that gun. I was more attached to that sidearm that I was to my XM8. "Beretta 6f. Nice choice."

I holstered my side arm, despite the fact that my head was still spinning. "Grandpa, don't get me wrong I'm happy to see you, but what the hell are you doing here?" I asked.

"What are you talking about boy?" He asked as he raised one of his eyebrows, and took the cigar out of his mouth.

"You know? What are you doing here _alive_? I thought you died in…" The rest of my words were drowned out as something just occured to me. I thought my grandfather died in 1995, the same year that a lot of those silver plaques in M.H.I's compound in Cazador were dated.

"In 1995." He picked up. "Like a good portion of M.H.I. Aye that was a nasty day for the company, but I didn't die. Earl thought it would be a good idea to figure out why his boy had gone off the reservation like he did, and a dead hunter doesn't raise any suspicions. So Earl and I agreed to fake my death."

"But you _did_ die. I saw them put you in the ground."

My grandfather shook his head, with a slight smile tugging on the corner of his lips. "You saw them put a box in the ground. Did you actually _see_ the body?"

I was stunned into silence. My entire family had believed that the man standing in front of me had died years ago. Yet here he was, not having aged a day since I last saw him, M.H.I armor aside, he still had that cigar in his mouth like he was Arnold Schwarzenegger from one of his old 1980's movies.

"That's what I thought." He said as he clapped my shoulder, and my knees buckled slightly. He might look like he was an old man in his 70's (well technically late 80's now) but he was still strong as all hell.

"So… So is this what Earl said about getting answers?" I asked incredulously.

"Aye boy that he did." My grandfather replied. "Now he told me how you went toe to toe with little Suzy. Now that sure impressive, but you want to know how you were able to do that?"

I nodded.

"Well boy, you're not exactly human."

"What do you mean?"

"You're mixed blood. A hybrid between a Werewolf and a Vampire."

I took a step back in shock when he told me this. "A hybrid? Like in the _Underworld_ movies?"

"Never seen 'em."

"Watch 'em grandpa, you'd like 'em."

"Right then, but yes you're a hybrid between the two species."

"Wait, time out on the field." Clare interjected. "How is any of that possible? How can you or Alex be monster hybrids?"

My grandfather cleared his throat, and scratched the back of his head. "It's a bit complicated, but someone in our family bloodline took a bite from both species. Now instead of dying, their blood mutated and adapted. They got the strengths of both species, and the weaknesses of neither. We're faster, stronger, and better than any full blood monster."

"So how come nobody else in the family became Hunters like you?" I asked. It was a reasonable question.

"Because, nobody else but myself and now you know about it." My grandfather explained. "After I joined M.H.I, I told myself that I would do all I could to make sure that nobody else knew of our little family secret, and keep all of you away from M.H.I. I never wanted this for any of you."

I shrugged. "Well I didn't choose this life. It quite literally chose me."

"Aye that it did boy." My grandfather said as he clapped my shoulder. "Now I have to go see Earl, I've got more information for him."


	11. Chapter 11 Rising

Chapter 11. Rising.

My head was spinning even more than it was before my grandfather showed up. He was alive, and it turns out our family bloodline was something from the _Underworld_ movies. Oh and there was still that warning about the end of the world that Susan had given us. That alone should have floored anyone, but it seemed like something or someone really enjoyed fucking with me, and kept handing me heavy shit to deal with.

"You alright boy?" My grandfather asked. "You look like you're about to throw up."

"It feels like I'm about to throw up." I replied. "How am I supposed to deal with this?"

My grandfather shrugged, and handed me his Tommy Gun. "Shoot something. It always makes me feel better." He said as he gestured to the smoking corpse of the Hell Cat.

I took the gun and emptied it into the dead Hell Cat. It turns out that my grandfather was right, shooting something can be very calming for the nerves. "Well what do you know? That actually works."

"Told you so." He said as he put the cigar back in his mouth. "Now is Earl back at the compound, or did he head back to Cazador?"

"He's back at the compound." I replied as I handed him back his Tommy Gun.

After what seemed like a long walk, the compound came into view. And an audible groan escaped me as I saw we had company.

"Mr. Morrison." Agent Creed said with a confident smile. "I'm so glad to see you again. And I brought backup." He gestured to several other agents standing outside a long line of black SUV's.

"Fuck off Agent Creed. I'm not in the mood to deal with your shit." I practically spat as I brushed past him, but was stopped when the F.B.I Agent grabbed my upper forearm.

"I'm not in the mood for this either. Now you're coming with me, or my men will be forced to act." Creed growled.

I narrowed my eyes and growled as I countered Creed's grip, and forced his arm behind his back at an uncomfortable angle. "Agent you had best fuck off right now. Or I swear I will rip off both your arms, and shove them so far up your ass, you'll choke to death on your own fingers, and they'll have to rule your death a suicide."

Agent Creed groaned. "You know that could be considered threatening and assaulting a Federal Agent."

"Well if you don't leave right now, and take your goons with you, It's really going to happen." I said through gritted teeth.

It was then, that an ice cold breeze blew through the front of the compound, and Agent Creed seemed to stiffen.

"C-Corey?" Creed asked completly stunned. I looked over the Agent's shoulder, and let go of his arm. Standing in front of the two of us, was the Vampire I had killed close to a year ago.

Corey tilted his head, and smiled that same sadistic smile he had on his face right before he attacked me on Halloween. "Hey bro." He said lightly.

"I thought you died." Creed said.

Corey's smile widened, and I swore I felt a little dissapointment when I didn't see those two elongated incisors. "Oh I did Terrance. I died twice. Now I'm gonna kill the guy behind you. Then I'm gonna kill you." He started to make his way forward, but he vanished in a cloud of smoke, and a burst from my grandfather's Tommy Gun.

"EVERYONE INSIDE NOW!" My grandfather shouted, and everyone including the Feds rushed into the main building. The second we entered, I headed straight for the armory, but not for the silver rounds. I headed for the rounds Brian had sold me when I first bought my guns.

"What the hell's going on?" Milo asked looking up from the work bench.

"It's complicated Milo." I replied, as I began loading my weapons. "Ever hear of the Rising of the Witnesses?"

"Yeah. That's when spirits who were killed by some sort of Supernatural event, get dreged back up to kill the people who couldn't protect them."

"Well that's happening right now!" I replied, cycling the action on my spas, and set to work on loading a mag for my G36.

"Then shouldn't you be loading those with silver rounds?" Milo asked, to which I shook my head.

"Iron works better against the Witnesses." I pulled the charging handle back on my one working rifle after slamming a mag in, loaded another into my Beretta, and proceeded to put my armor on. I was soon joined by Clare, Steve, and Odette. The two Northeast Hunters attempted to load their weapons with silver rounds, but they were stopped by Clare and myself. We explained that iron rounds were more effective, just like I had explained to Milo moments ago.

I turned to leave, but saw Corey standing in the doorway with that same sick smirk on his face. "Remember me you prick?" He asked.

I chuckled lightly. "Yeah, but you look different without that axe in the side of your head." I leveled my Spas at the vengeful spirit. "How about a face full of buckshot instead?" I pulled the trigger, and Corey vanished like before.

Clare shook her head. "You really are a smartass Alex. Did anyone ever tell you that?" She asked before heading off to find the others.

"I get that all the time." I said more to myself.

"You know I think she really likes you." Odette said smiling, as she followed Clare.

"Now _that_ I don't get all the time." I said to Steve who noded and followed after his fiance, and Milo and I brought up the rear.

Everyone else was on the rec room on the second floor. All three Hunter Teams, Agent Creed, and the other Feds he brought with him. Some of the other Hunters had their armor on, others didn't. However everyone Feds included was heavily armed. They had formed a defensive line around the fireplace, and my grandfather was working on something behind said defensive line. It was an awful lot like what Sam and Dean Winchester along with Bobby Singer went through in _Supernatural_ season 4.

"What the hell is going on Mr. Morrison?" Agent Creed asked when the five of us joined the defensive line.

"I'll tell you after this ordeal is over, provided the Feds let me." I replied as the same ice cold breeze filled the rec room. I loaded another shell into my Spas, and cycled the action. "Here we go." Several vengeful spirits materialized aside from Corey, and one looked right at Steve and Odette with an expression of pure outrage.

"Oh hell no." The two said in unison, and blasted the spirit into wisps of smoke.

"Friend of yours?" Clare asked.

Odette and Steve nodded. "You could say that." Odette replied.

The other spirits charged, and the other hunters along with the Feds opened fire. However these weren't monsters. They weren't flesh and blood, so they couldn't be killed, and no matter how many rounds we pumped into them, they just kept coming at us. My Spas had just clicked empty, when a bright blue flash of light hit the room, causing all the spirits to vanish.

"What the hell just happened?" Agent Creed asked in a panicked tone.

"Are they gone?" Another Fed asked.

My grandfather lit another cigar, and inhaled for a moment, before a plume of smoke came out of his mouth. "Aye they're gone. Won't have to worry about them anymore."

Earl lit his own cigarette. "So what the hell did you do Marcus?" He asked as he put away his lighter.

"It's a spell that's meant for this situation. You need opium, warmwood, hemlock, and a hex bag. All those lovely little goodies need to be crushed together all while reciting an incantation. After that, you throw the bowl into an open fire, and poof the Witnesses go away." He took another long drag on his cigar.

"Well now that it's over." Agent Creed said. "Can somebody explain to us what the fuck is going on?"


	12. Chapter 12 Gungnir

Chapter 12. Gungnir

As it turns out, Agent Creed took the news about the Supernatural rather well. Of course he was still conflicted about his brother. Namely why it had to be him who was turned. But reasons are never clear as to why things like that have to happen. At least that's what Earl Harbinger told him. The FBI had cleared out of our compound as soon as the MCB did their little song and dance routine (by which I mean threatening to put a bullet in their heads if they said anything).

As for me, it had been a long day for me. Facing Susan, clearing out an entire den of Werewolves, learning that my grandfather was alive, and that I was some sort of hybrid, and finally the Rising of the Witnesses. Proof that Susan's warning was true. In all honesty, I was exhausted, and it was only my second day here. After storing my guns and armor in my locker, I tossed my clothes into a corner of my room, took an hour long shower, and was asleep the second my head hit the pillow.

I had that dream again. I was left stranded on a roof with an endless horde of Zombies. They were advancing slowly towards me, I opened up on them with my G36, and they dropped like flies. However they just kept coming, and my 100 round mag clicked empty, so I pulled the trigger on the underbarrel M203 launcher, and more Zombies disappeared in a hail of silver shrapnel and blood. I quickly reloaded both the launcher and my rifle, and opened up on the horde of flesh. But no matter how many dropped, more just kept coming. My last dum mag clicked empty, and I was out of shells for my launcher, so I slung the rifle, and pulled out my Spas. The action cycled and I put down 8 more walking corpses. But just like my rifle, the shotgun clicked empty, and the Zombies were close enough that I couldn't reload the shotgun, so I dropped it and grabbed my Beretta. I got off 15 shots, until that clicked empty as well. There was nothing left to do, so I reached for the grenade.

Again I woke up in a cold sweat, but was relieved that it was just a dream and wasn't a bunch of meaty chunks on the ground. "What the fuck is going on?" I asked myself, as I set my head back against my pillow. But a second later I had my Beretta in my hand again.

"Woah easy there cowboy." Clare said, as she entered. "Still a little jumpy?"

"Yeah. A little bit." I replied, as I set my pistol down. "Had that dream again."

"Maybe you should tell someone." Clare said as she tossed me my jeans.

"Probably right. Is Earl still here?" I asked.

Clare nodded. "So's the Northeast team."

I sighed, and retrieved a clean shirt. An old _Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers_ T-shirt I've had for years, and just didn't have the heart to get rid of. "Well lets see what Earl has to say." I said as I holstered my Beretta, and followed Clare.

We found Earl talking to my grandfather upstairs in the rec room, both were smoking much to Pat's chagrin. He had been trying to quit for a while, and he didn't like people smoking inside. But it didn't seem like there was much he could say to the two experienced Hunters. I walked up to both men, rubbing the back of my head.

"Sleep well Alex?" My grandfather asked.

I sighed, and shook my head. "Actually there's something you might want to hear." I leaned over, and made eye contact with Pat. "You might want to hear this too. And put those out, Pat is really trying to quit, and you aren't making it easy for him." Both men looked at what they were smoking, and put them out in an ashtray as Pat made his way over. It took about an hour, but that was mostly due to all three men asking me questions about my recurring dream.

"Any idea where you were?" Earl asked, but I shook my head.

"No idea where the rest of the team was?" Pat asked.

"Not a clue Pat." I replied.

"It's gotta have something to do with Susan's warning." My grandfather chimed in. "If there were that many Zombies, it couldn't be much of anything else."

"So…" I interjected. "What do we do now?"

"Not much we can do about it now kid." Earl replied. "Not until we know more about what's going on inside that head of yours. Trust me kid. This has happened before, so we know what we're doing."

I nodded, and sighed slightly. "So we keep hunting and collecting bounties on Monsters until we know more?"

"Pretty much boy." My grandfather said, as he went to light his cigar. "Oh you might want to see Milo. Your new rifle is ready."

"Thanks Gramps." I replied, as I took both his cigar and lighter. "But don't smoke in here."

I found Milo in the compound's armory. It was almost like yesterday had never happened. Of course, he wasn't holding a monster of an assault rifle in his hands. "Hey Alex, Marcus tell you that I had your new rifle?" The weapon smith asked excitedly.

I held up my Grandpa's cigar and lighter, smirking slightly. "Yeah that's why I'm here."

"Alright well, let me tell you what we have here. As you know this is a G3A3 rifle. It's got a 17 inch barrel, a 20 round magazine, but I've got some 50 round drum mags for you. PT bolt charging handle, a 40 millimeter underbarrel grenade launcher, oh and my personal favorite." He gestured to a side mounted 6 ¾ inch bayonett that looked a lot like an M7. He hit a switch near the mag release, and not one but two blades sprang out.

"Milo how in the blue hell did you manage to do this!?" I was incredulous with my question. But Milo's smile simply widened.

"I'm very good with what I do Alex. So care to take it out for a test?"

"Oh hell yes!" I exclaimed, as Milo handed me my new rifle.

"That's what I like to hear." Milo said as he clapped my shoulder. "Come on. I've got a nice little display set up in front of the compound."

Milo led me outside, and I couldn't help but laugh. He had set up a couple stands of fruit, with several maneqins spaced out at different lengths. And I wasn't the only one who was out here looking at Milo's little set up.

"Okay Milo what is all this?" Owen asked, and then pointed to my G3. "And what the hell is that?"

"It's a highly customized G3 rifle, and I'm about to test it on Milo's little setup here." I replied to Owen, before I began inspecting Milo's setup. "Oh he's not gonna need this." I said as I took a cigarette out of a maneqin's mouth, before making my way back to where Owen and Milo were standing.

"You ready?" Milo asked me as he handed me a 50 round drum mag.

"Oh hell yes." I replied as I slammed the magazine in, and racked the charging handle back. "But I'd stand back. It could get messy."

I sighted on the nearest fruit stand, and pulled the trigger. The stand exploded in a hail of bullets, and fruit guts. I slowly moved the rifle across the range, and several other other stands met the same fate as the first, and so did the maneqins. I was laughing manically even after the magazine clicked empty. I reached for the under barrel launcher, and smirked evilly as the fruit stands were blasted into smitheriens.

"Damn Milo!" Owen and I exclaimed at the same time.

"Damn is right!" Connor said, as he and the rest of the team, followed by a couple other members of the Northeast team walked up to survey the damage my rifle had caused.

"What the hell is that anyway?" A Northeast team member named Scotty asked.

"H&K G3A3 rifle. Heavily modified." Milo replied.

"Well it's badass!" Connor said looking longingly at my new G3.

"It's had it's test fire, now it's time to give it a name." Owen said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Every weapon that Milo has made and customised has a name." Owen replied. "My Seiga's name is Abomination. Shannon has a Warhammer shotgun." He pointed to another member of the Northeast team. I do admit she was kinda cute. "That badass gun's name is Boudica. So what are you gonna call yours?"

I looked at my new rifle, then to the other hunters. "Suggestions?"

"What about Ripper?" Connor suggested.

"It's got a nice ring, but it just doesn't seem right." I replied.

"Destroyer?" Scotty suggested, but I shook my head. That also felt wrong.

"What about Sasha?" Pat suggested, but I scoffed.

"Do I look like 'heavy weapons guy'?"

"What about Mjolnir?" Owen asked, and that gave me an idea.

"We're getting somewhere with that. But Mjolnir was a hammer, and this seems more like a spear." I replied.

"I think I know what you mean, so what about Gungnir? It was the spear used by Thor's father Odin."

I smirked and noded. "Yeah now that fits." I strapped Gungnir across my back, and went to inspect the damage that it had caused. There was only one maneqin left standing, and I just couldn't help myself. Mafia vs. Yakuza was always my favorite episode of _Deadliest Warrior_ , so I placed a rose from one of the destroyed carts in the shirt pocket of the last standing maneqin.

"Have a nice day." I said before lighting my grandfather's cigar.


	13. Chapter 13 Good times with weapons

Chapter 13. Good times with weapons

It was a few days after Milo had given me Gungnir, both Earl's team and Turner's team had gone back to their respective bases. I was slightly disappointed that I never got the chance to get behind the wheel of Steve Cooper's kick-ass GTO, but things happen. After all we were both hunters, so there was a high chance we'd meet again. However, since I got Gungnir, the majority of the team wanted to get their hands on a little more firepower. Since Pat and myself knew the area, there was only one place to go.

Intimidator armory.

Our cars pulled into the parking lot of Intimidator's. Clare's Subaru, Jame's Jeep, Connor had a '73 Dodge Charger, and Pat had a '70 Gran Torino, and finally my Cobra. I smiled as I stepped inside the shop. Nothing had really changed since before I left for Cazador, and Brian was still standing behind the counter.

"Woah Alex. Long time no see. And you brought friends." He said smiling, before his eyes settled on Pat. "Pat!? Is that you, you crazy son of a bitch!?" Pat smirked, and the two of them bro hugged. (A handshake followed by a pat on the back.) "So I take it you guys aren't in here for a social visit. You're here for some serious firepower."

Pat nodded. "Yeah that's about right, and you know our specs too."

"Yeah I do. Although you never did say why you guys need those particular rounds. If you guys are defense contractors, you really shouldn't be picky."

Clare chuckled. "Well while we our defense contractors, the people who manufacture our ammo make them real special."

Brian raised an eyebrow. "Special how?"

"It's simple." Clair explained. "They go in, scramble your insides something nasty, and then boom. They explode inside the target." Brian nodded and was clearly impressed by Clare's lie, hell so was I. The girl could string words together.

"Alright then, store's open so take your pick." Brian said. "Oh hey Alex, how are those guns treating you?"

"G36 is working good. The XM8 got destroyed though, real bummer because I really liked that gun too." I said.

"Yeah that is a bummer." Brian agreed. "Need a replacement?"

I shook my head. "Thanks for the offer, but I already replaced it." I took my phone out, and showed him a picture of Gungnir, to which Brian drooled over for about 20 minutes while we looked over Brian's selections.

"Hey Brian. What are these? Desert Eagles?" I asked as I gestured to a pair of handguns behind the glass display case.

"No, those are Jericho 941's. They look similar, but the D-gle's barrel is longer." He explained. "Why you want 'em?"

"Um let me think about that for a se-yes."

Brian scoffed. "Smartass. Alright, that's two Jericho's anything else?"

"Put 'em to the side, and I'll let you know… Hold that thought. What about that combat hatchet?"

Connor couldn't hide his smile. "Couldn't resist could you axe-man?"

I shrugged, and smirked. "Well I _am_ the axe-man after all."

"Um Alex?" Brian started.

"Our first mission, I went a little crazy and took a few whacks at someone's head with an axe." I lied, but just like Clare's lie it worked.

"Damn Alex, I had no idea you were such a bloodthirsty bastard." Brian said smirking.

"Well now you know." I replied.

"And knowing is half the battle." James and Pat said in unison.

After a good minute of laughing, Brian handed Clare an ACR assault rifle with a reflex sight, with a matte earth paint job. She also got her hands on a set of Kunai throwing knives. And while I said they weren't very practical, she insisted. She also fancied another sidearm. An H&K USP compact with a silver slider.

James decided to go with a rifle, but was conflicted between the Smith and Weston M&P15 or the H&K AR15. So he decided to flip a coin, and went with the AR 15. He also purchased a Beretta P4X Storm handgun.

Connor simply went with a TDI Vector subgun, and like Isabelle's UMP it had side mounted laser sight, and he also added a reflex site as well… And then he went overboard when he bought an MG3. That's a modern version of the old German MG42 turret that was used in WWII. Yeah he bought one of those big fuckers, and where Brian got his hands on a monster like that I will never know.

Pat also kept it simple. However since he had a love of old west films (and I mean _all_ old west films), he wanted a revolver. Brian knew just the weapon: A Taurus Judge revolver. He also purchased a big-ass Bowie knife, I honestly wasn't surprised. Revolvers and Bowie knives went together like peanut butter and chocolate.

After paying for everything, we loaded our cars with our new miniature arsenals. Plus side is we didn't have to wait for any background checks to come through. A little parting gift from Agent Creed, due to him knowing what was inevitably going to happen, was that he had pulled a few strings, and now nobody on our team had to wait for any sort of check in order to purchase a firearm. However, on our way back to base, Pat's voice came over our radio's.

"Looks like we're gonna get a chance to break our new toys in guys. Belle just called, and we got us a game."

"Please tell me Susan isn't back?" I asked over the radio.

"Negative Alex, but there's a pretty big nasty going down at Carousell." Pat replied. "So let's get our gear on, and get down there."

Engine's roared, and several speed limits were broken as we raced back to base. Within 10 minutes, our armor was on, and our weapons were loaded. My new Jericho's were holstered behind my back, as I now had my Beretta holstered on my right hip. My combat hatchet was sheathed along the left side of my belt, and I had Gungnir held almost reverently in my hands.

Clare still chose to main with her SCAR PDW, as her new ACR was strapped across her back, and her USP compact was holstered on her left hip. Her new throwing knives were sheathed along her left arm, and somehow she had got her hands on a S.T.A.R.S. hat, as she was also a fan of _Resident Evil_.

James slammed a 30 round magazine into his new AR15 and racked the charging handle back. His two other shotguns were slung across his back criss-crossing each other. He also triple checked his M32 launcher. His new Beretta was holstered on his right hip, as his big Smith and Weston 500 was still holstered behind his back.

Connor's new Vector subgun was slung along his left side, and he had his M60 LMG loaded with another 200 round ammo box. Just like our two previous jobs, he had five other boxes placed in pouches along his belt. His 1911 was still under his left armpit, and his snub nosed .357 was holstered above his right boot.

Pat still had the same loadout as our first two missions, only now his Bowie knife was sheathed along his belt, and his Judge revolver, like James' 500 was holstered along his belt behind his back.

Isabelle and Dimitri were already waiting in one of our teams black SUV's as they hadn't gone with us to Intimidator's. However before Clare and I loaded up into one of them, Pat stopped us.

"I almost forgot to give you these." He said as he handed us two circular patches. One was a bit of a joke, as it was the S.T.A.R.S team patch. The other was a little more intricate, as it was our Hunter Team's patch. It was someone in a duster coat with a cowboy hat on. His back was turned to us, and his left arm was raised, with a championship belt clenched in his fist, and the belt had the same horned smiley face on its center plate.

"Slap those on, and load up." He said with a smirk. "It's game time."


	14. Chapter 14 Game on

Chapter 14. Game on

It was a real short drive to Carousel. The local mall in Syracuse that had undergone serious renovation and expansion, and was now named Destiny USA. However to all residents who were born before the 2000's it was still called Carousel mall. Plus Pat and Dimitri drive like mad men, So it took less than 10 minutes to get there. However attempting to find a parking space any day of the week that ends in a 'Y' is nearly impossible. Add a potential monster attack, dozens of local police, all the shoppers and employees, plus the feds from the MCB and your chances of finding a parking spot would be the same chances of Leonardo DeCaprio winning an Oscar.

We pulled around the back of the mall close to where the carousel was. Or as close as we could get due to all the civilians, cops, and feds. We unloaded from our SUV's, although Isabelle stopped Connor when he brought out his big MG3.

"There is no way you are bringing that in." She said sternly.

"Aw come on Belle, we don't know what we're gonna be up against in there." Connor protested.

"Connor I know you want to test your new toy, but that's a high-powered portable turret. There's a high chance you might end up hitting one of the civilians." She explained.

Connor looked around, and unloaded the ammo belt from the large caliber weapon, before setting it back into his SUV, and picking up his M60.

"Like a small child unable to play with their new toy." Dimitri said causing Pat to chuckle as we made our way past all the wide eyed civilians, and under the yellow police tape. Of course with all the hardware our team was carrying, nobody was surprised when the cops cleared leather, and aimed their sidearms at us.

"Nobody move!" One cop with salt and pepper hair, and a square jaw yelled at us. And my eyes widened.

"Mr. Sachus?" I asked, and the cop lowered his weapon.

"Alex? Alex what the hell are you doing with all those weapons!?" Mr. Sachus asked me. I never answered that question, as MCB Agent Locke walked up to the cops that had surrounded us.

"Lower your weapons officers. These people are cleared to proceed." Locke said calmly.

The cops including Mr. Sachus all lowered their sidearms, but they didn't holster them. "What's going on?" Mr. Sachus asked.

"I told you before Officer Sachus, that is need to know. And you do not need to know." Locke replied calmly.

"Agent Locke." Pat started. "Where's Agent Jefferson?"

"He's been temporarily re-assigned." Locke replied. "Something about being too useless or something." The rest of the team chuckled at that.

"So they land you with a temporary partner?" Connor asked.

Locke nodded. "However I wouldn't exactly call him _my_ partner." He said as a gorilla of a man walked up behind him, and I swear a shudder went through the entire team. Because standing behind Agent Locke was the MCB's most feared, most hated (if you ask any Hunter), and most deadliest weapon. Agent Franks.

"Jesus H Christ. He's bigger than I thought." I said in a low voice to Pat, who agreed in a slight grunt.

"We're moving in soon." Franks said before walking off.

I swear when he left, there was a collective sigh of relief not just from my team, but from the cops, and to my surprise Agent Locke. "You heard the big guy. We're moving in soon. So Mr. Martin, my team will move in from the newly renovated side of this mall, also by Macey's, and Lord and Taylor. Your team will move in through here. We find the target, execute it, and be home in time for _Top Chef_."

"Hold on one second." Mr. Sachus interjected. "I'm going in too, and don't say another word about this 'need to know' bullshit."

I smirked. Joseph Sachus hadn't changed since I stopped taking karate. He was my instructor for three years before I went to college. Now the man was a cop so you know right then and there he's not someone to fuck with. He's also (to my memory) a 5th degree black belt. The guy kicked my ass during sparring more than anyone in MHI during that four month training period. I slung Gungnir, and unclipped my G36.

"Here sir." I said to my old instructor, as I handed him my rifle.

"You know you are gonna do so many push-ups when this is over Alex." Mr. Sachus said with a smirk.

"Just be sure to put a fresh mag in when you're done." I replied as he racked the charging handle back.

Five minutes later, we moved in. MCB on the three sides. Our team including Officer Sachus moved in through the entrance under the carousel. We split up when we reached the escelators. Clare, James, Mr. Sachus, and myself went forward. Connor, Dimitri, Pat, and Isabelle went up the escelator. It was quiet as we made our way forward, clearing every shop. Until we stopped at Victoria's Secret.

"I'm not going in there." James said.

"Oh quit it James." Clare said rolling her eyes. "Nobody is gonna take your man card. Besides we're not shopping for anything." James groaned, and we split up to clear the store. James and Mr. Sachus on one side, Clare and myself on the other. The store was just like all the others we had cleared. There was merchandise scattered everywhere, when the shoppers had left in panic.

"So what do you think?" Clare asked.

"I feel bad that whoever wanted to by this angel collection bra never got the chance." I said with the piece of langerie hanging from Gungnir's barrel.

"Not what I meant, and I'm not going to model it for you."

"Not what I was thinking Clare. Although now that you mention it-ow!" I was cut off when Clare Gibbs-slapped the back of my head.

"Get your mind out of the gutter DiNozzo. I was talking about what do you think we're after."

I shook my head, and rubbed the spot where Clare had whacked me. "Honestly, I have no idea. I just hope it's not another Hell Cat."

"Agreed." Clare said, as she took the white lace bra off of Gungnir's barrel. "Store's clear. There's nothing. And white isn't my color."

The other half of our team hadn't had much luck either. Neither had the MCB teams. We were about to give up and call this one a hoax, when Dimitri's voice came in over the com channel.

"I found something on thermal. Sixth floor. It is very big."

"Copy Dimitri." I replied. "We're moving up now."

"Be careful Alex, this bright spot is right above you."

"Roger that. Moving up now." I said.

"We're right behind you." Pat's voice cracked over the line.

"So are we." Agent Locke said over the line.

The elevator doors slid open, and the four of us stepped inside. Although I was really uneasy about going up in a small glass box.

"You alright Alex?" Mr. Sachus asked.

"I don't like heights, or enclosed spaces. This is a double whammy." I replied.

"Close your eyes. It'll be over soon." James said.

I sighed and closed my eyes after James pressed the button to the sixth floor. However that uneasy feeling in my stomach only got worse despite it only being a 10 second asscention. However 10 seconds later, the elevator came to a stop, and i let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"Jeez if you can't even handle elevators, I'd hate to see you on a roller coaster." Clare said.

"There's actually an interesting story about that." I started but Mr. Sachus cut me off.

"Hold the chatter. There's something on this floor remember?"

The three of us looked at one another, and I jerked my head to the side. The indication for James to move out and take point. I followed, with Clare behind me, and Mr. Sachus bringing up the rear. A second later, the elevator to our left dinged, and the rest of our team came out after the doors slid apart.

"MCB teams are in the other two elevators." Pat said, right before something blindsided him, and sent him back into the wall on the far side of the room. When I got a look at what did that, my grip on Gungnir loostened in shock. the creature had the lower half of a snake, and it's upper half was the body of a woman. Yet reptilian scales replaced what should have been human skin, and her eyes were yellow like most serpents.

A Lamia.

"CONTACT!" I yelled before opening up on the Lamia with Gungnir. Everyone else followed after half a second later. However the Lamia was fast. Not as fast as Susan had been, as we had been able to land hits on it, but fast enough that not a whole lot of shots connected. At least not until one of Jame's Frag 12 rounds blasted off a good section of her tail. By then MCB Agents Locke and Franks had caught up to us, and opened up on the Lamia. Franks had two service issue Glocks. While Locke had a large silver Desert Eagle with combat grips. A few seconds after the two feds joined us, their fire-teams (who looked like they were ready for WWIII) added to our total firepower. But despite our combined firepower, and the nasty wound the Lamia sustained, she just wouldn't die.

"Why isn't this bitch dying!?" Connor yelled over the hail of gunfire.

"We can't kill a Lamia with conventional methods!" Locke replied.

"What does that mean!?"

"Only way to kill it is with fire!"

"Fire's on its way." Franks deadpanned even over the roar of gunfire.

I looked at the gorilla of a Federal Agent like he was crazy. "What are you bringing a flamethrower up here!?" I yelled, to which Franks simply nodded. "Well that's a bad idea if I've ever heard one! We don't need a flamethrower!"

"Do you have a better suggestion then?" Franks asked.

"As a matter of fact I do!" I yelled as I slammed another 50 round mag into Gungnir, before turning to James. "You have incendiary rounds in that AA12 still right!?"

James nodded, and slung his Benelli in its scabbard, before pulling out the automatic shotgun. "Just get me a clear shot!" He yelled before the Lamia charged at us.

It happened again, just like it happened when I fought Susan. The Lamia seemed to move way too slow, and in that time an idea popped into my mind. I unsheathed my new combat hatchet, and hit the Lamia dead center in the face. While it wasn't enough to kill it (plus it wasn't made out of silver), it was enough to send the creature recoiling back in pain.

"You have your shot 'Fireball!' Light that bitch up!" I yelled to James.

James didn't need to be told twice. Our shotgun loving demolitions expert opened up on the Lamia, and the result was both awesome and gruesome at the same time. The Lamia wasn't so much shredded, as it was vaporised into thousands of bloody flaming chunks. James stopped shooting his large assault shotgun after unloading 7 rounds into the Lamia, as he didn't want to risk setting the top floor of the mall on fire.

"Score one for 'Fireball' and the 'Axe-man'." James said a few moments after the gunfire had ceased.

"Got that right." I replied, as the two of us fist bumped, and I retrieved my hatchet that somehow hadn't gotten melted by the hail of flaming 12 gage rounds.

"So this is what you do now Alex?" Mr. Sachus asked, as he flicked the safety on my G36 on.

I nodded as I accepted my rifle back from my former karate teacher. "Yeah. This is exactly what I do now. But Sir, you can never tell anyone about what you just saw under any circumstances."

"I understand, and I think I know why nobody wants shit like this exposed to the public." He replied.

After weapons were reloaded, and safeties were back on all weapons, Isabelle went to take a look at Pat who had been knocked out when the Lamia sent him flying. Luckily there was no damage done to him, except for a few cuts and bruises, and some wounded pride. But that's nothing a few pints of Guiness couldn't fix.

We were all about to take the elevators down to the ground floor, when we heard an ear shattering roar from behind us that was so loud, it shattered all the glass on the top floor. Everyone turned around to see what the hell that was, when the wall behind us shattered into billions of pieces of splintered wood, and what looked like a full grown lion leapt at us. Of course this wasn't a regular lion. It had what looked to be the head of a goat above the golden mane, and there was a serpent for a tail instead of a regular tail.

A Chimera.

It leapt at us, and knocked several heavy armored MCB soldiers over the guardrail, and sent them plunging down six stories. It roared again, forcing everyone except Franks to cover their ears, before it too leapt down six stories, and headed for the new expansion of the mall.

"What the hell was that!?" James asked, as several hunters and armored MCB solders tried to shoot the fleeing Chimera.

"A Chimera." Agent Locke responded. "And it's heading for the exit." Locke reached into his coat, and produced a walkie-talkie. "Torres! We have contact with a Chimera! It's heading for your position! Do not let it escape! Repeat Torres, do not let it escape!."

The Agent on the other end of the line started to respond, when we heard that earth shattering roar from both the walkie-talkie, and from the direction that the Chimera had run off to.

"Shit! the Chimera's loose." Locke cursed, then spoke into the walkie-talkie again. "All units. Creature on the loose. Repeat we have a 10-84 creature on the loose. Pursue, and persecute with extreme prejudice."

"We're going after that thing too." Pat said. "Your men could use the help and the firepower."

Locke nodded, before getting into the elevator. After the doors closed, Pat turned to Connor. "Looks like you'll get to use your new toy after all. Let's get to the SUV's and get after this son of a bitch. And Alex."

I looked at my best friend. "What's up?" I asked before he tossed me his keys.

"You drive."


	15. Chapter 15 Pursuit

Chapter 15. Pursuit.

The second the elevator doors slid open, all ten of us raced for the exit. Pat wanted to catch up to the pursuing MCB vehicles ASAP. Fortunately Agent Locke was one of the few feds at the MCB that actually gave a damn about minimalizing civilian casualties, and rather enjoyed the occasional helping hand from MHI. I was the first one to reach our teams SUV's, and I nearly ripped the door off its hinges attempting to get in. Connor loaded his new MG3, climbed into the back seat, and stood up through the open sun roof window. Clare rode shotgun, and had set down her Scar PDW, opting to use her ACR instead. However to our surprise, Agent Locke took the seat behind mine.

"Thought you could use a direct line to my pursuit team." He explained.

"Thanks Locke." I replied, as I turned the key in the ignition. "But you might want to put your seatbelt on." I put the SUV into gear, and tore out of the mall's parking lot. With Agent Locke in my ear, it wasn't long before we caught up to the feds pursuit team. They were in hot pursuit of the Chimera, heading down Milton Avenue by the paper mill. Armored agents were hanging out of the window, firing what looked like FF2000's at the Chimera, however those feds seemed to have the aim of Imperial Stormtroopers as they couldn't seem to hit the fleeing creature.

"Tell your men to make a hole, we're going in." I said, not taking my eyes off of the Chimera.

Locke relayed the order, and the feds SUV's pulled over to either side to make room for our vehicle. I gunned the engine, and we pulled past the MCB pursuit team.

"Open up on it Connor!" I yelled.

"Smile you son of a bitch!" Connor exclaimed before unloading his weapon. The large rounds, ripped into the Chimera's hide sending blood and flesh all along the streets. Then the bullets shredded the goat's head with a satisfying yet disgusting _SPLAT_! It was almost like watching a watermelon explode. A white furred watermelon with horns.

"Nice shot! We got him!" I yelled over the roar of the engine and gunfire.

"Don't break out the beer just yet Alex." Connor said. "I only got one head. That might slow it down, but it's not enough to kill it."

"Wait what?" Clare started. "What do you mean?"

"A Chimera has three heads. That means three of everything. Brains, hearts, lungs. Its nervous system is interconnected between all three heads. Plus that fucker's hyde is thick as all hell." Connor explained.

"Well then why is it moving way too slow?" I asked, before I realized my Hybrid blood was kicking in again. "Nevermind that." I said as I turned to Clare. "Take the wheel."

Clare looked at me like I was insane. "Wait what!? Take the wheel, are you crazy!?"

"It's moving slow, and not just because Connor blasted one of its heads off." I said, and that's when Clare understood what I meant.

"Alright, but Alex you know stuff like this only works in those corny 80's action movies right?"

I smirked as I unholstered one of my new Jericho's, and rolled down my window. "I happen to love those corny 80's action movies." I responded before leaning out the driver's side window. The Chimera was still moving way too slow in my mind. I was surprised that our SUV didn't run it over, and crush it beneath its large wheels. I took aim at the snake's tail that was weaving from side to side as the Chimera ran. The .45 caliber round was invisible to the normal person when fired, however to me I saw every rotation the small round made after it cleared the muzzle flash. It was cool to watch, as it made a beeline for the Chimera's tail. I heard Connor's half exclimation, half laugh when my shot didn't just decapitate the serpent's head, but blew it into a billion pieces.

"Daaaaamn Alex! That was an awesome shot!" Connor said as I manuvered myself back into our SUV.

"Please tell me someone was recording that?" I said with the biggest smile on my face.

"Oh yeah. Our SUV's have dash cams." Connor explained as we continued to pursue the Chimera. "Some videos get sent down to Cazador, while others we watch on movie night."

"Well I'll get the popcorn as soon as we collect the bounty on this thing!" Clare yelled as she was leaning out of her window, firing her ACR.

Agent Locke tapped my shoulder a moment later. "Pull back Mr. Morrison, I have another team headed in our direction. We're going to box it in at the pizza resturaunt at the end of the street." He explained.

"Box it in?" I asked. "You want this think killed or captured?"

"I want to be part of the team that kills it." He replied.

"You think it's going to turn down one of the side streets?"

"That's exactly what I think, and that's when we move in for the kill."

I was surprised at Locke's plan. It was a good strategy, but it sounded like something that a Hunter would come up with not a Federal Agent. I hit the breaks, and allowed the two other MCB vehicles to overtake ours, and continue their pursuit of the Chimera. When they did, I turned off of Milton, and onto one of the side streets. That's when I heard one of the feds over Locke's radio.

"Sir, the target's gotten away. It's heading towards some sort of bar."

"That's our cue!" I yelled before gunning the engine again. "I hope everyone has their seatbelts on!"

Connor ducked back inside, and fastened his seatbelt as the large SUV roared up the street, turning the cars and buildings on either side into nothing but blurs. Several seconds went by, before a bar came into view. _The Blarney Stone_. That meant we were on Tipp Hill, or close to it since my knowledge about this part of Syracuse wasn't all that good. I slammed the gas pedal to the floor, right as the Chimera entered the intersection.

Time seemed to slow, as the lion's head turned in our direction like a deer in the headlights. I didn't hit the breaks, and plowed the front of the SUV into the Chimera's side. The creature, was launched into the air, flipping end over end, before skidding to a stop ten feet away. I hit the breaks, and turned the wheel to the right, forcing the rear of the SUV to arc to the left and block off the intersection.

"SHRED THIS BITCH!" I yelled, before everyone leaned out (or in Connor's case up) of their windows, and opened up on the Chimera. Clare was firing her ACR, having slapped in a fresh mag, Agent Locke drew a second Desert Eagle from his suit, and I mirrored him with my twin Jericho's. Connor let loose with his MG3, and we all filled the Chimera full of holes until we saw the lion's head explode in a hail of blood and bullets.

"It's dead right?" Clare asked breathlessly, as we all reloaded our guns.

"Oh yeah. It's very dead." Connor responded.

"Well that was fun." Agent Locke said

I nodded in agreement. "Yeah… Let's never do that again."

Everyone slumped back in their seats, before I backed our SUV into a parking space in the _Blarney Stone's_ lot. "Anyone up for a drink?" I asked, right as Pat's SUV pulled up, and the rest of the team ran up to us asking if we were alright. Several minutes of telling Isabelle we were fine, she finally backed off, and Connor handed Pat the sim card from the SUV's camera.

"Trust me you gotta see this." He said, before Pat put it in his pocket.

"So anyone up for a few rounds?" I asked, to which everyone including Agent Locke agreed to. Of course I don't really remember much after that. Except a mechanical bull.


	16. Chapter 16 Cults and bullets

Chapter 16. Cults and bullets

The next day, after all of us had recovered from our hangovers, and everyone had thuroughly embarrassed me about riding that mechanical bull (jokes on them, I won 5k) the team went after an Arachni (which is a spider the size of an 18 wheeler) in West Virginia. That thing went down after Clare unloaded her ACR into the things skull. The week after that, we fished a Luska out of Niagara Falls (Picture a large squid and fuse it with a great white shark and that's a Luska). That thing was a pain in the ass, but it met its end when James blasted the things head off with an RPG. Of course the damn thing nearly sunk our boat. Something Isabelle and Clare had been quick to point out. Two days after the Luska, we were sent after a Lindwyrm. I don't want to go into detail about that particular job. However, there was a small dispute between our team and another Hunter company called Paranormal Tactical over what team got to take down the Wyrm. Long story short, all the PT hunters got taken out real quick, and a few hours later our team while bloodied and exhausted took home the PUFF bounty.

While our missions were successful, we were still keeping our ears to the ground for Susan and any sign of the warning she had given us. It had been weeks since she had told us what was coming, but so far aside from the Rising of the Witnesses and my recurring nightmare (if that could even be called a warning), there hadn't been any other signs.

Oh and speaking of that crazy nightmare, I had it again a few days after killing the Lindwyrm. However this time it was different.

I was in a chopper with the entire team, and we were loaded for war. We were flying over a large city, although I couldn't tell what city specifically. Several buildings were on fire, and there was smoke everywhere. What little I could make out of the streets below, looked like hell. Zombies were lining the streets, cars were tipped over and burning, and it looked like a completely hopeless situation. However there were people fighting back, and they were very organized. I realized they must have been Hunters. They were putting up a hell of a fight, and had managed to gain some ground on the undead husks.

Our chopper began circling over a skyscraper that looked like something had sliced the top part of the building off, and it looked like a large suite or an office from the wreckage of it. Pat signaled to the pilot of our chopper to take us down. I clutched Gungnir in my left hand, and I noticed to my surprise that Clare was holding my right and giving me a reassuring smile. I wasn't sure if I returned her smile, as our chopper had touched down. I let go of Clare's hand and jumped out to make sure it was clear for the rest of the team to land. I had just given the all clear, and Clare was just about to step out, when something flew straight towards the chopper. Luckily, whoever was flying saw what was coming and manuvered out of the way. Unfortunately that threw Clare off balance, and threw her out of the open door of our teams chopper. Time slowed, as I let Gungnir fall to the floor and dove trying to grab Clare and pull her up. I managed to grab her by her Galco rig, and once she had a hold of my arm I hoisted her back up.

I was about to make a joke, when our chopper dusted off and left us stranded on the roof. For good reason too. As our teams chopper retreated, I saw three Gargoyles chasing after it. That left myself and now Clare trapped on the roof. I had just picked Gungnir back up, when the Zombies poured out around us. I looked at Clare. She looked at me, and there was a moment of understanding between us. Almost like we knew we weren't going to get out of this. But we were not going out without a fight. I opened fire with Gungnir, and Clare opened up with her SCAR PDW. Zombies dropped like flies, but more just coming. I pulled the trigger on the 40mm launcher Milo had equipped Gungnir with, and several Zombies vanished in a plume of shrapnel and fire. That's when we saw an opening. A hole in the wall of flesh, that led to an open elevator shaft behind the husks. We both had the same thought, and Clare ran ahead of me heading for the stairs. I provided cover fire for her as she ran, and once she reached the opening to the elevator, she opened up with her PDW and covered for me as I ran to catch up to her. Once I caught up to her, we both emptied what was left in our respective magazines into the undead wall of flesh. When we clicked empty, I jerked my head towards the elevator shaft, and Clare grabbed one of the wires and manuivered down. I followed a moment after tossing my last grenade at the Zombies. We worked our way down the shaft for what seemed like hours, but finally our feet made contact with the roof of the elevator. We paused for a moment to reload our weapons, before opening the roof of the elevator, and the dream ended.

Like before when the dream ended, I woke up sitting bolt upright, but I wasn't drenched in cold sweat. Something had made my dream change from me being a bloody mess at the hands of my own grenade, to my getting out alive having saved Clare's life as well. I sighed in immense relief, and rested back against my pillow.

"Come on in Clare." I said right before my door opened, and she stepped inside.

"How did you know?" She asked.

"I had the dream again, and every time I wake up from it, you always walk in to wake me up." I replied.

"Point taken, but you had the dream again?"

"Yeah only it was different this time."

"Different how?" She asked.

I proceeded to explain to her every detail of what had happened. The Gargoyles flying at the chopper, her falling out, to my saving her life, our firefight with the Zombies, blasting them to pieces with the grenade, and finally our journey down the elevator shaft.

"Well thanks for the save." She said. "I'm glad you got out of there alive."

"We. We got off that roof alive." I corrected.

"Right. We got out alive." She corrected herself smirking. "Come on get dressed, Pat says we have a game, and a real special one."

"Special how?" I asked, as I pulled on an old pair of jeans.

"No clue, he said he wanted to wait for you to get up." She replied, as she tossed me my Beretta, and I secured the holstered sidearm on the right side of my belt.

The rest of the team was in the armory putting their armor and gear on as Clare and I joined them. I had just secured my chest plate, when Isabelle put a breakfast burrito in front of my face.

"Sleep well?" She asked. Like the rest of the team, she knew that whenever Clare and I showed up together, it was because she had woken me up after I had my prophetic nightmare.

"Yeah actually." I said as I accepted my breakfast. "The dream changed."

Pat almost had a fresh mag loaded into his M4 when I said that, and the loud clatter of the magazine hitting the floor reached our ears, we knew he was clearly surprised. "Changed how?" He asked.

For the second time that morning, I explained everything that happened as I loaded my weapons. Of course once I finished, Connor got on my case.

"Damn hero. Got out alive, and saved your girlfriend." He chided. Of course, he shut up real quick when Isabelle and Clare went upside the back of his head Gibbs-style.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"I'm not his girlfriend." Clare and I said at the same time.

Connor looked like he had the perfect response, but as he probably didn't want to get hit again, he quickly changed the subject. "So boss what's our next game?"

Pat had retrieved his mag, and loaded it into his customised M4 by the time I had finished telling the team what had happened. "Right. Like I said, this game is special."

"Special how?" I asked.

"It's a special request from the MCB." Pat said, as the rest of the team nearly lost their footing. "Their having trouble with a real nasty Satanic Cult, and they've requested our help."

"Why don't they send in Franks?" Isbelle asked.

"From what they told me, Franks is busy killing something else, and were the closest team." He replied.

"So we go in, kill the cultists, and get back home in time for _Top Chef_?" I asked.

"We leave now we might make it back in time for _Kitchen Nightmares._ " Pat said, and the whole team chuckled at that.

We all loaded up in our teams SUV's and rolled out. Now when Pat said that our team was the closest, I hadn't expected it to be that short of a drive. With traffic, it was probably an hour before we arrived in Fulton. This part of New York had nothing going for it. It's population consisted of nothing but deadbeats, red-necks, and people who drank Pabst blue Ribbon beer, like it was water. So it was a good spot for a Satanic cult, as nobody would really give a shit around here. We parked a side road, and made our way towards the MCB vehicles that were parked along a road near the river that ran through the center of the city.

Agent Locke was waiting for us, and he explained to us that the cult was holed up in a large abandoned office building a few blocks away on the other side of the river. They were heavily armed, and well fortified making an insertion by ground nearly impossible. However Locke had the idea to insert us via an old service entrance down by the river.

"Anything else we need to know Locke?" Pat asked.

"Just one more detail." The Agent replied. "The director of the MCB wants the cult's leader alive. Everyone else is expendable, but the director wants the leader."

"Fair enough." Pat said. "I hate these Cults anyways. Oh how much are we getting payed for this Locke?"

Locke sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "Five hundred for each cult member, and twenty thousand for the leader, but he has to be taken alive."

Pat nodded and motioned the rest of the team to follow. Locke had somehow gotten a Zodiac, and that's what our team took down the river. Well almost our entire team, as Dimitri had taken up a position on the roof of a building across the river from the one we were going to enter.

"Careful." His voice cracked over our coms. "We have movement, two sentries patrolling the river bed. Not a problem though." From where we were, we saw the sentries in question drop like flies.

"Nice shots." Pat said as he cleared the engine to the Zodiac, and we filed out. I was rather impressed with Dimitri's marksmanship. He had hit both sentries dead center in the forehead. Both were dressed from head to toe in military combat gear all painted black, and their tac vests had the Satanic Cross painted in gold across the front. But was even more impressive was the gear that the cultists were packing.

"Look at all this shit." James said as he rifled through the dead cultists gear. "It looks like stolen military weaponry. M4's G36's, Sig Saur's."

"Katana?" I asked as I picked up the single edge Samurai era Japanese sword, and un-sheathed it half way. "Mine now." I scoffed as a placed the blade back in it's scabbard.

"Damn axe-man. Why do you get all the cool stuff?" Connor asked, although he was smirking.

"You want it?" I asked and offered the blade to our heavy weapons expert.

"Nah man you found it so it's yours. I'm just bustin' your balls a little." He replied as we fist bumped, and I strapped the Katana across my back, over my right shoulder.

"Alright cut the chatter, and stack up at the door." Pat said. "James, you're on point. Alex you're behind him."

We nodded and fell silent as we got into position. James with his Benelli, myself now holding my Spas, Clare maining with her SCAR PDW, Isabelle and her UMP, and Pat with his M4. I felt Clare pat my shoulder, and I in return placed my hand on James' shoulder. Our teams CQB and demo expert squared up and kicked the door in. There was obviously a cultist on the other side, because in the second James breached, he opened fire.

"Clear! Let's move!" He said before he entered the building the cultists had taken up residence in. I was right behind him, my Spas leveled and chest leveled, and the rest of the team filed right behind us a second later.

"Well you seemed to have stirred the hornet's nest." Dimitri said. "They're coming from both sides of your position. If you split, I cannot cover all of you."

"We'll manage Dimitri." Pat said evenly as we made our way up a flight of stairs that split to the left and right. "Alex, Clare, James, you guys take the left. Belle, Connor, you're with me. And remember Locke wants their leader alive. But he never said anything about him being un-injured."

The three of us split up, heading in our separate directions, and it wasn't long before we heard feet thundering down the steps heading in our direction. One heavily armored cultist rounded the corner, and James splattered the wall red with the man's insides after the explosive Frag 12 shell tore through the cultists chest. As James moved up the stairs, he cycled the action on his Benelli and blasted another cultist member to hell. Two more rounded the corner, and one dropped when Clare put a trio of rounds into her skull, while I made the next man's head disappear in a fine red mist with my Spas.

We had reached the first floor by then, and the abandoned office space was decorated in all sorts of Satanic symbols, and objects. Needless to say, that it was also packed with the same heavily armed cultists we were engaging. The three of us ducked back around the doorway, as they opened up on us.

"I'm not gonna be able to hit these guys!" James yelled over the gunfire. "Shotties aren't effective at that range!"

"You have a launcher!" I countered. "Don't think tactical hunter, think Playstation. Blow shit up!"

James slung his tactical shotgun, and grabbed his M32 semi-automatic 40mm grenade launcher. "Fireball's in the house!" He yelled, as he stepped into the doorway, and pulled the trigger on his launcher. There was a loud _THUNK_ followed by an unbelievably loud _BOOM_ as the launcher fired, impacted and detonated. Glass shattered, wood was turned to splinters, and the blast sent the cultists screaming backwards seconds before the explosion killed them.

"What the hell was that!?" Pat yelled over the com line.

"Sorry boss." James said. "Some people just didn't want to let me through."

"Jeez I thought Alex was a smartass." Isabelle remarked.

"Oh he won't outdo me Belle." I replied, as I unslung Gungnir and stepped into the decimated ritual decorated office space, and made my way forward.

"What do you think this place was before the cultists moved in?" Clare asked, as we mopped up what cultists hadn't been killed by the blast and shrapnel created by James' launcher.

"Nobody cares Clare." I replied. Syracuse has a name for this place. Everyone calls it 'Shitville' because this entire place is one gigantic piece of shit."

"Okay… Can I ask why?"

"Yeah this is redneck country. And not the good kind. I'm talking about pseudo-KKK, white trash, unbelievably racist, bottom feeding, deadbeat rednecks."

Clare made a noise that was something between a groan and a retch, as we moved up to the second floor. However we encountered the same problem as we did on the first: Lots of heavily armed, and well armored cultists. And there were more on this floor than there were on the level below us.

"Dimitri!" I spoke into my com. "Second floor! We're pinned down! Could use a little help!"

Several rounds shattered the windows overlooking the river, and the cultists dropped. At least until one of them yelled 'sniper' and they turned their weapons towards the windows. That's when my Hybrid blood kicked in again, and the cultists seemed to be moving way too slow to me. I leveled Gungnir, squeezed the trigger, and watched as the cultists dropped under the hail of Gungnir's 50 round drum mag, armor piercing bullets. However more of the cultists poured in, just as my 50 round magazine clicked empty. I moved out of the doorway to reload, and Clare stepped up, and unleashed a 30 round mag of hot silvered death. I stepped back in, as her magazine clicked empty, as one of the men we had somehow missed charged at us with some sort of long ceremonial knife.

I rolled my eyes, but instead of shooting the charging loonatic, I lashed out with my foot and kicked him in the chest. I let go of Gungnir, allowing the sling to catch it, and unsheathed my combat hatchet and Kukiri. The man got up and charged at me again. I stepped to the left, and stuck the blade of my hatchet in my attacker's back, while resting the edge of my large Kukiri along his throat.

"Oh Sally. The man attacked me with a knife." I said smoothly before I brought the edge of the curved blade across the man's throat in one swift motion.

"Damn Alex." James scoffed. "Did you really just quote something from the _Expendables_?"

I nodded smirking. "How many times will I be able to use a line like that?"

"Point take-oh shit!" James exclaimed, as another cultist entered the second floor landing, and leveled his weapon at us. Neither of us had time to react, but a second later I got a glimpse of something flying through the air towards the cultist. Whatever it was, hit the cultist and he crumpled to the ground.

James and I turned to see Clare, with her right arm extended towards the now dead cultist. When I looked back, I saw that one of her Kunai throwing knives was buried in the man's chest.

"It was all under control." I said to Clare.

She scoffed and smirked as she walked past us to retrieve her knife. "That's what it looked like." James and I looked shocked, as Clare had also quoted something from the _Expendables_. "What? A girl can't enjoy a decent action movie?"

"I think I'm in love." I said under my breath. Fortunately neither James or Clare had heard that.

The three of us readied our guns before heading up to the third and final floor. And this floor seemed to have been made into some sort of odd mix of an altar and a throne room. Pat and the rest of the team made it to the last floor the same time we did, albeit on the other side. And sitting on the odd throne, was the unmistakable leader of all the cultists we had just mowed through. He had on a long red robe, decorated with the satanic cross across his chest. All six of our guns were trained on him, as he stood up, and spread his arms out.

"Ah so the famous Monster Hunter International comes for me." He spoke in a calm even tone. "Tell me, how did you find out where my brothers laied our heads?"

"MCB Agent Locke sends his regards." Pat growled out, and the smiled.

"Ah so the Monster Control Bereau sends its biggest rivals to kill me and my brothers?" The cultists leader asked.

"Right about your brother's, but wrong about you. We're taking you alive." Pat replied, before dropping his M4 (and like with Gungnir allowing the sling to catch it), and pulled out his Tarus Judge Revolver. He shot twice cowboy style (pulling the trigger while pulling the hammer back with his left hand at the same time), and hit the cults leader in the knees. The man screamed in pain, dropped to the ground. The rest of the team moved in to make sure he didn't try anything. While Isabelle zip-tied the man's hands behind his back, Pat who had his revolver pointed at the back of the leader's skull, radioed Agent Locke.

"Hey Locke. I got a little present for you."


	17. Chapter 17 The red horse

Chapter 17. The red horse

It wasn't long before Locke and a team of five heavily armed MCB soldiers arrived to escort the injured cult leader away, Locke might have been a little upset as to the condition of said cult leader, but we completed the mission. The cult's leader was alive per Locke's instructions. Of course, this whole situation raised a few red flags.

"Locke, what's all this about?" I asked the Federal Agent.

"All what about Mr. Morrison?" He replied.

I spread my arms, gesturing to the whole situation. "This whole situation stinks. You have five guys plus yourself, up against a couple dozen well fortified Satanic nutcases. Little to no fire support, Franks isn't with you, and you call us for help. What's going on Locke?"

Locke gave a long sigh, and ran a hand through his hair. "The new Director of the MCB who goes by the name Doug Stark, didn't like my field tactics when we went after that Chimera."

"What do you mean? He didn't like us chasing it down and filling it full of holes?" I asked.

"That and he doesn't want any MCB agent working with MHI under any circumstances. So he stuck me with this gig. No partner, no fire support, nothing. So yeah I called you guys, because honestly I enjoyed working with you. Plus I figured you guys could use a favor from the MCB one day."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Locke was getting screwed over by the director of his own agency. Honestly this guy would be better off with MHI, which was a concern I couldn't help but voice. "Why don't you just call it quits at the MCB then?"

"It's the R&D." He replied. "Our agency, while now being run by a useless piece of garbage has some really neat toys."

"So that's it?" Pat asked as he joined the conversation. "You stick around, because you enjoy playing a monster killing James Bond?"

Locke chuckled. "Trust me, if my paycheck allowed me to afford an Aston Martin Vanquish like Double-Oh-Seven, I wouldn't be here right now. I'd be tearing that bitch up and down the coast."

Pat and I nodded in approval, as one of the heavily armed feds handed Locke a cell phone. "Pardon me gentlemen, I have to take this." Locke began speaking to whoever was on the other end, and his expression immediately soured. "Director, if you had a set of balls, you would have gotten down here yourself to grab this son of a bitch. Did I stutter? Stark if you try that I will come down to Washington and shoot you myself, and there will be nothing you can do to stop me. No Stark, you need to listen. If you thought Franks was the only one you need to look over your shoulder for, think again. I know all about what happened up at Cooper Lake, and if you try anything, the whole agency will know too. That or I can shoot you, and then inform the agency. That's exactly what I thought."

Pat and I looked at each other, clearly surprised that Locke had just threatened his boss. If either of us tried that with Earl, neither of us would be around long enough to regret it.

Locke rolled his eyes as he hung up the phone. "I'm sorry you had to hear that. However there are some days when I really wish I could shoot the son of a bitch that directs the MCB."

"We can't really say the same for our boss." Pat replied "So why does your boss want this guy so bad?"

"Director Stark believes that the man you shot in the kneecaps has a connection to Susan Shackleford's warning."

Pat frowned as Locke explained. "How is this guy connected in any way?"

"Most of it is classified, but from what information we've gathered, he's planning on binding the Four Horseman."

Pat and I looked at one another slowly, then slowly looked back at Locke. I didn't believe what I was hearing, and I don't think Pat was either. "I'm sorry, but did you just say the son of a bitch my friend here went Dirty Harry on, wants to summon _the_ Four Horseman?" I asked.

"You heard correct Mr. Morrison. He wants to-" Locke was cut off when another armored fed walked up to him. "Oh you have got to be kidding me. How does he..? Oh screw it, I'll handle this."

"Locke what's going on?" I asked.

"Apparently this guy has a lawyer." Locke replied.

"How the hell does this guy have a lawyer?" Pat asked incredulously.

"Your guess is as good as mine Mr. Martin. We have him on charges of stealing military hardware, multiple charges of assault with a deadly weapon. And I'm not sure if Satanic Rituals were covered in the Gineva Conventions, but there is also murder and attempted murder. There's no way in hell his lawyer is going to get him off of those charges." Locke responded, before walking off towards his agencies vehicles.

"I gotta see this joker." Pat said.

"Right behind you." I replied, as we trailed behind the agent.

The lawyer in question, was actually attractive for a guy (Yes I have no trouble in admitting that). Albeit the man's hairline was receding a little, but his face was still young and handsome, the guy looked pretty built too. Made me wonder why he was a lawyer and not a soldier or an officer of the law.

Of course Locke wasn't too happy about this guys arrival. He was downright pissed. To call the conversation between the two men 'heated' would be a very big understatement. There were some pretty choice words, that I don't feel I should mention exchanged between the two that made me feel like the two were going to start swinging. All the while, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

"Hey Pat?" I asked. "What did Locke say about this guy? About the connection to Susan's warning?"

Pat looked at me slightly confused. "That the guy was planning on summoning and binding the Four Horseman. Why?"

"Well just out of curiosity, what car is that guy's lawyer's?" I asked.

Pat jerked his head towards the lawyer's car. "That red one over there. The Mustang…" His voice trailed off, before he turned to me. "You don't think?"

"Only been a hunter for two weeks, but Earl said to keep your mind open at orientation." I responded nodding my head towards the lawyer. "I do think.

As if to prove we were right, there was suddenly a gun in the so-called lawyer's hand, and Locke had no time to react, before he was shot in the shoulder. The force of the shot knocked Locke back, almost like something you would see in one of the action movies that I enjoy so much. The lawyer who we realized was War then turned his gun on us, but we had already had ours leveled at him. The three of us fired at the same time, War's first round glanced off of Pat's left shoulder plate, as a hail of silver rounds fired from our rifles slammed into War's chest. The horseman writhed violently as our bullets tore through him, but as Pat's 30 round mag, and my 50 round mag clicked empty, War just smiled.

"Nice try." He started. "But it'll take more than that to-" A high-pitched _zip_ went past my ear, and something split War's head. The Horseman stumbled back a bit, before crumpling to the ground.

"Damnit Dimitri. I hate it when you do that." I spoke into our teams com, after dragging Agent Locke to safety, and Isabelle got to work on removing the slug from the fed's shoulder. Turns out War's bullet had penetrated pretty deep. Locke was very lucky that it hadn't hit an artery, despite the fact the slug was right on top of one. Like I said: Locke was very lucky.

"Looks like I owe you guys another favor." Locke said shakily, as Isabelle helped him to his feet. She managed to get the round out of his shoulder, and stop the bleeding, but she insisted that Locke get professional medical assistance.

"I'd talk to your boss about this." Pat said. "I mean what the hell was he thinking? Sending you in with only five other agents. No partner, no fire support, no medic on hand. It's like he was trying to get you killed."

"I said it earlier. Director Stark hates your company, and is doing everything he can to get you shut down permanently." Locke replied.

Connor while normally cheerful, scowled at this. "So what, that means he's planning on crossing out any fed in the agency that sympathises with us? I might not know a lot about federal laws, but I really don't think that's legal."

"Well you won't have to worry about it too much longer." My eyes widened, as War placed his gun to the back of Isabelle's head. All the bullet holes we put into him, including the one in his head were gone. Although the suit he was wearing was ruined due to the blood that had stained it. "Weapons down, or you'll be short one medic."

Nobody moved. If anything the grips on our rifles tightened. Horseman or not, we weren't going to let anyone get away with threatening a member of our team.

"You really must not care about her at all." War sneered as he thumbed the hammer back on his Browning 9mm pistol.

"That's because we know something you seemed to have forgotten." I snarled at the Horseman, who scowled at me. "You have something on your forehead. A little red dot. Looks like our marksman's last bullet screwed up your memory."

Isabelle laughed, despite the fact that she had a gun to the back of her head. "There's the smartass."

I chuckled once, before turning my attention back to War. "You might want to put your gun down, or our marksman will put you down. Again."

War growled, and lowered his Browning. Right before a long blade pierced his chest. Everyone took a step back in shock, as the cult leader who Pat had shot in the knees had made some sort of (black magical) recovery, and had somehow snuck up on War and the rest of us without us noticing.

"I'll be taking this." He said calmly, as he removed a ring from War's hand. "Thank you War, but I'm afraid you've outlived your usefulness." War's body crumbled into dust, as the cultist leader removed the blade from the now desceased (if that was possible for a Horseman of the Apocalypse) Horseman's chest.

"Thank you all for this." He said as he held up the small gold band. "Soon I'll have all I'll need to bring my lord back."

The last thing we heard was his laughter, before he vanished in a white flash of light.


	18. Chapter 18 Catching up

Chapter 18. Catching up

It was a few hours after we had dealt with the cultists, their leader's escape, and War's death. Locke had taken Isabelle's advice and passed out at the nearest hospital. But not before sending one last FU to his director. Pat had notified Earl about what had gone down today, and everyone knew he was pissed off.

Which is why when I found him in the rec room of our base, I waved away the cloud of smoke that came from his cigarette.

"Dude you know those things will kill you." I said as I sat down next to my friend.

"Well it'll either be these or the monsters." He replied, as he put the nicotine stick out in an ashtray.

I sighed and opened a couple of windows to let the smoke out, before making my way back to the table. "Alright, I know Earl got pissed. But how pissed did he get?" I asked.

Pat shook his head, and ran his hand through his hair. "It was bad man. Army drill instructors seem tame next to the ass handing I just got."

"So he _really_ tore you a new one?"

He nodded, but then smirked. "But the silver lining is I got off easy compared to the earful he's giving Doug Stark right now."

I gave a single laugh, before I asked my next question. "So I never asked, how did you get your start?"

"Oh that? Well you remember I went off the grid four years ago. Well I was on that camping trip with my family when we got attacked by a Gargoyle."

My eyes widened as he began to tell his story. "A Gargoyle. Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't those things supposed to be controlled by a high powered Vampire?" I asked.

"Yeah. But I didn't deal with him. Just that Gargoyle." He responded, before continuing his story. "Anyways, I led the thing away in my parent's car. I thought I lost it, until the damn thing landed on the hood and ripped the roof off. So I gunned the engine, and drove the car into the side of a gas station."

"I'm gonna go out on a limb, and say that you jumped out of the car before it hit the pump." I mused.

Pat nodded. "Oh yeah. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. But the asphalt tore me up something good. I woke up in the hospital a few days later, almost in a full body cast. And the MCB did their little song and dance routine, right before this guy in a duster coat and cowboy hat walked in."

That last part caught my attention. It brought me back to the team patch that Pat had given Clare and myself a few days ago.

"Was this guy your team leader after you got out of your newbie course?" I asked, and Pat nodded.

"Yeah. Sam Haven. He was a good ol' southern boy, and didn't really like people from the northern states. But he was a retired Navy Seal, who could make anyone want to follow him into the mouth of hell. He was part of Earl's team, up until after the Cursed One incident."

"Guy sounds like a badass." I said.

"He would have liked you." Pat replied. "I'm sorry you never got to meet him."

I tilted my head, as my best friend's voice sounded almost sad. "What do you mean?"

"His name is up on one of those silver plaques in Cazador." He responded.

I sighed, and slightly slumped back in my chair. "Sorry man."

Pat shook his head and waved off my appology. "Don't be. He went out like a badass. We should be so lucky."

"I'll drink to that. But let's go back to that Gargoyle for a second. Was anyone in your family seriously hurt by that thing?"

He shrugged. "It killed Jeff, but you know how I feel about him."

Pat was right. I knew exactly what he thought about that man. Jeff was Pat's step-father, and had been since he was 8. His mom had married him after Pat and his little brother's dad had passed away from a heart attack. Since then, Jeff had treated my best friend and his little brother like crap, and the two of them hated him not just for that, but the fact that the son of a bitch was a complete deadbeat. So the fact that Pat didn't care that the Gargoyle that messed him up had also killed his step-father, didn't really phase me.

"Well the _suka_ is dead. No need to dwell on the past." Dimitri said as he joined us. Our marksman set a large bottle of Vodka, and several glasses on the table, as the rest of our team joined us.

"Well what about you Dimitri?" I asked. "How did you get your start?"

Dimitri smiled (making Connor fall out of his seat), and filled his glass. "My story, is like something out of the first Modern Warfare game of Call of Duty. Before I was a Hunter, I used to be Spetsnaz. Russian Special Forces. The last mission I did was in the Ukraine. More specifically Pripyat. Our intelligence said that a terrorist arms dealer was salvaging the fuel rods from Chernobyl, and was selling them off to other organizations. My team was deployed to … Neutralize this man and who he was dealing to. But right before I could take the shot, the ground broke apart, and a massive Lindwyrm crawled from the hole."

Nobody moved, or said a word as Dimitri told his story. We were all too stunned to do much of anything except listen as he continued, after taking a swig of his Vodka.

"When it attacked, the rules went out of the window. My team, the dealer, and his men all tried to kill the creature. But like all Lindwyrms, it's hide was very thick, and our bullets bounced right off it's scales. The fight went on for hours, and my entire team minus myself was killed. I was holed up near the old ferris wheel, only one bullet left in my Dragunov, waiting for the monster to kill me like it had killed my team. It had just come into sight, when it's head exploded, and an MI-28 Hind attack helicopter flew by."

"Earl?" Pat asked.

Dimitri nodded.

"Wow man. I never heard that story before." Connor said, as he drained his glass.

"What was a Lindwyrm doing under that city?" Isabelle asked. "Feeding off the radiation?"

"From what was found in that hole it came from, yes it was. And it attacked because we were taking away it's food." Dimitri responded, as he refilled his glass.

After Dimitri, Isabelle told her story. Turns out like me she took on a vampire. Difference is, she was working in a hospital in Batton Rogue Louisiana, and was able to pump about a dozen industrial sized needles filled with morphine into it, before frying the thing with a defibrilator. Shoker of her story no pun intended, was that the Vampire was her wife (yes I said wife).

Turns out Conner, who was visiting family in Nevada got ambushed by a Wendigo. Now while they're rare to come across, Wendigo's are deadly as hell. They used to be human, but were driven to insanity due to over-consumption of human flesh. They're one of the apex predators of the monster world, they can move incredibly fast in the light, but are faster in the dark. They can mask their voice to sound like another person in distress, and they can live for hundreds of years. They're only weakness like a Lamia's is fire, and Connor smoked it out of its den before pouring kerosine all over it, and igniting the son of a bitch with a flare gun.

James smirked at that. "And you call _me_ fireball."

"Seems we were all tailor-made for this job." Clair said.

I nodded, and raised my glass. "To the hunt."

The rest of the team followed, and our glasses clinked against one another's. "To the hunt."


	19. Chapter 19 We need to talk

Chapter 19. We need to talk

 _Click!_

The 30 round mag on my G36 clicked empty, so I hit the release, and slammed another in and racked the charging handle back. I had my assault rifle set to fire in bursts of 3, and had pretty much reduced the paper target to pulp. I hit the button on my position on the firing range, and a new target was brought out. I leveled the iron sight on the targets chest, and pulled the trigger. 15 rounds shredded the paper targets chest, while the other 15 ripped the head apart.

 _Click!_

Just like the first magazine, this one was dried up. I hit the release, but didn't reload my rifle. Instead I pulled up a chair, rested the rifle against it, and sat down opening a bottle of water. Taking a large gulp before screwing the cap on, I placed one of my earbuds in, and hit play. I leaned back in the chair as the opening to _Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater_ began to play. I closed my eyes as I started to relax, even though there was a dull throbbing in my left leg.

We had gotten a call about a Vampire in West Virginia, we rolled in heavy as we thought Susan had come back, but it wasn't her. That being said, it was still a pretty intense fight. Especially when the Gargoyles showed up. All hell broke loose then, and one of the bastards ended up breaking my leg something bad when he took a swipe at me. Fighting through the pain, I decapitated the stone behemoth with the under barrel launcher from my G36. Our target almost ended up getting away, up until Dimitri emptied the magazine of his H&K 417 into the bloodsuckers chest, and Connor reduced him to paste with his M60. Totaled up, between the Wights, Gargoyles, and that Vampire, our team made enough to eat good for a very long time.

We had gotten my leg wrapped up at the local hospital, but what surprised the doctors was that I only had a hairline fracture, where as before it was a compound fracture. While it confused my team more than the doctors, as they didn't know how bad the break was, they put one of those plasitc boot casts on my leg and sent us home. Of course I was piled with questions about how that had happened on the way home, and we chalked it up to my hybrid blood. Apparantly my family lineage gave me a healing factor that seemed to be better than Wolverines. Still Pat wanted me to take it easy for a few days, said to go spend some time with my family.

As the song reached it's end, I turned off my iPod, flicked the safety on my rifle, and headed to the compound's garage. The engine of my Cobra roared to life, as I peeled out of the compound's garage, and down its long winding driveway. Ten minutes later, I pulled up the winding driveway of my parents house. Where they lived overlooked the village of Camillus, and the town of Fairmount. My parents were close enough to be stupidly rich, after my dad hit a couple jackpots on the New York Mega Millions lottery. So yeah. Big house, nice location, stupid rich.

I killed the engine after I pulled into the driveway the sun was just setting, and saw to my surprise that my older brother John was here, playing a pick-up game of basketball in the open court on the side of the garage with my little brother Thom. Now John was well built, but it's hard not to be when you're a Sargent in the U.S. Army Rangers. His hair was cut short in the standard military style, his skin was tanned from being in the sun, as he had recently been deployed overseas, he was still wearing his dog tags over a white Vin Diesel muscle shirt. John smiled and waved me over as I got out of my car. The two of us hugged, before he resumed his game with Thom.

"I got winners." I said grabbing the orange ball as it dropped through the hoop.

"Hold on." John said. "What about that boot?"

I undid the clasps on the plastic boot, and tossed it aside. "Doc says it can come off today."

"Alright, but don't be disappointed when I whip your ass baby brother." John said smirking, as he took the ball up to the hoop, but was surprised when I slapped it down, and got posession of it.

"What was that?" I asked with a smirk of my own, as I launched the orange ball towards the hoop, and it fell through the netting.

"Don't get cocky Alex." John said, as he manuvered past me, and power dunked the ball through the hoop. Our game went back and forth, but it ultimately went in John's favor, when he pulled some Allen Iverson spinning dunk move, that surprised both me, and Thom.

"And I believe that's game. Thank you all for playing." My older brother laughed as we made our way inside. "So Alex, Dad says you're a defense contractor now."

I nodded, brushing my hair out of my eyes, it was starting to get long again. "Yeah, I get to travel around the world and shoot guns. And the best part, is that the pay kicks ass."

My talk of guns got Thoms attention. He was the gun nut in the family. "So what do you roll with?" He asked excitedly.

Both John and myself rolled our eyes. "I got a lot of hardware. I roll in with two rifles, a shotgun and three pistols."

John's eyes widened and he stopped in his tracks. "What exactly are you using?"

"And don't spare any details." Thom chimed in.

"I use a G36 with an under barrel grenade launcher, a G3A3 rifle that also has an under barrel launcher, able to fire in three-oh-eight, that has two side mounted bayonettes. A Spas 12 that has a kick ass paint job, a Beretta 6f, and two twin Jericho's." I said as I flipped through the pictures of my weapons in my phone. While John was drooling over my weapons, Thom was practically in love with them.

"You gotta let me shoot these monsters." I chuckled at my little brother's wide-eyed expression as he said that.

"Thomas don't you even think about it." My mom said sternly as she walked up behind him, making him jump a foot in the air, causing me and John to laugh, right before a black ball of fur began attacking my right leg.

"Woah. Who is this?" I asked, as I picked up the puff ball, that turned out to be a black furred Siberian Husky.

"We bought her about a week ago." My mom explained. "Her name's Shadow."

"She's a little bundle of energy." I said before turning to the small puppy. "Aren't you?"

As if she knew I was talking about her, Shadow gave me a small excited bark, and begin licking my face excitedly proving my point.

"Alright that's it you." I growled, before mussing her fur, and nuzzling my face into her furry chest. The small Husky howled happily, while her tail wagged furiously.

"Looks like you made a friend." John laughed.

I began laughing, even as _Cut of Personality_ began playing on my phone. Pat's Ringtone. I set Shadow down, trying not to notice how adorable it was when she placed her front paws on my leg, and gave me the puppy eyes routine. I reached into my pocket and pulled my phone out, and pressing the green button.

"Hello?" I spoke into the reciever.

"Alex where are you?" Pat asked.

"At my parents house why?"

"You might want to turn on the news." He replied.

"Why?" I asked. "What's going on?"

"Just do it man. And stay on the line."

I frowned and made my way into the living room, turning on the large television set, and flipping channels until I reached one that was showing the local news. What I saw was insane. From the camera man's point of view, it looked like there was some sort of riot going on in downtown Syracuse.

"Pat what the hell is going on? Is this something for us?" I asked growing nervous.

"Yeah, but wait until the arial view shows you what's really going on." He replied over the phone.

I didn't have to wait long, the next shot was the arial view of downtown, and I felt my blood turn to ice. My home city was being overrun by Zombies.

"I'll be back soon. Are there any other teams that can assist?" I asked, trying to keep the nervous edge out of my voice.

"Earl's emptied the main compound. Every Hunter is en route. MCB is also rolling in heavy. Get back here and gear up Alex. It's game time." Pat replied, before the line went dead.

I put my phone back in my pocket, and turned around to see my entire family giving me an assortment of odd looks. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair.

"Guys we need to talk."


	20. Chapter 20 Pregame

Chapter 20. Pregame

My family looked at me like I was crazy. I had just told them everything that I had done and gone through over the past year since I killed that Vampire in the back room of Wegmans grocery. Pat's visit after my cast came off, him giving me my beloved Barry Burton Beretta, and the large Puff bounty. Buying the Cobra that was currently parked in the driveway, and purchasing my other weapons. Which were the G36, my old XM8, and my Spas 12 that were stored in the trunk of my Cobra along with some other new firearms that I picked up from Intimidators. MHI's training process. Of course I had to censor it a bit, because being the good big brother that I am, I didn't want my 12 year old sister to hear the exact details of what I went through in those 4 months of pure hell. Coming back to Syracuse, and going toe to toe with a Master Vampire. Milo Anderson's construction of my new rifle Gungnir. Learning about Grandpa being alive (I left out the part about being a hybrid. They didn't need to know about that), and all the monsters my team and I went after up until the Gargoyle broke my leg, and the current situation happening now.

My Dad was pacing back and forth, my guess trying to process everything I had just said. Of course my guess he was he was going to say it was all bullshit, and it was driving me crazy that he wasn't saying anything. I needed to get back to the compound, and get armored up. Plus I wanted them to come with me, as it would be safer for them there than at the house.

"So say I believe all of this." Dad started. His gruff voice punctuated by his Irish accent. "Why should we come with you, when we'd be safer at the military base at the airport."

Thom shook his head as he spoke up. "Dad that's a bad idea. If Alex is telling the truth, the highways are gonna be backed up like hell."

My dad growled slightly but kept his tone even. "How would you know that Thomas?" My dad only used his kids full names when the situation was serious.

"You see it all the time in Zombie movies and video games. I know. I know, this is no game." Thom said as my Dad rounded on him, but he calmed down … Slightly.

I looked back over at the television, and sure enough Thom's love and knowledge of Zombie games paid off. The cameraman in the news helicopter was showing an arial view of Route 81, and sure enough the highway was backed up like a clogged artery with cars stacked bumper to bumper.

"Dad. Thom's right." I said not taking my eyes off the screen, and I heard my mom gasp in panic.

"Lucas. We should go with Alex." My mom chimed in, her voice was filled with panic. But I could tell she was trying to keep it together to keep Katie from freaking out.

My dad sighed, looking from my mom, to the television, to me and back several times before he spoke again. "How safe is your compound Alex?"

I smirked lightly. "You could drop a nuke on it, and the worst that could happen is you'd probably fall on your ass. My boss down in Alabama emptied the main compound. Every member of our company is on there way here."

That seemed to be enough for my dad. "Alright. Anna, Katelyn you get everyone's clothes together. Alex, John." Dad tossed a set of keys to John. "Go to the gun case, and empty it. Thomas. I know you've got a collection yourself. Bring it out son. We're out of here in ten minutes."

Everyone scattered, Mom and Katie, headed upstairs, Thom headed to his bedroom, and John and I made a beeline to Dad's office, and straight for his gun case. The second John took the key away, I opened the door and we cleaned that case out.

"I don't remember dad having an M1 Grand." I said as I held the World War II era rifle in my hands.

"That's because it's not dad's." John said, as placed his hands on a .30-8 hunting rifle. "It belongs to Thom. Dad found it in his closet a few days ago and confiscated it."

"Do I even want to know?" I asked my older brother.

"No you don't." John responded, and I let it drop, but that raised another question.

"Where are yours?" I asked.

"I had to surrender my rifle when I returned to base, but I still have my sidearm. It's in my room." He replied.

I jerked my head towards the door. "Go get it. I'll finish up here." I said, as I stuffed Dad's and whatever guns belonged to my younger brother into an oversized duffel bag. John made his way out of Dad's office, as Thom made his way in with a backpack, and a Sig Saur P220 on a hip holster on his right side.

"Thom." I started, but my little brother cut me off.

"Everything I have is registered and purchased legally." He replied.

"Including the World War II rifle?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nah. That was a build kit. Thing was a bitch and a half to put together, had to save up for the past year for it, and dad wasn't too happy when he found it."

I took the rifle out of the bag and handed it to him. "You're eighteen. Dad can't bust your balls too much about it."

Thom took the rifle in his hands, before looking back to me. "Are we going out there?" He asked me with a nervous edge in his voice.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "Thom I said it before. You're eighteen, so there isn't much Dad can do to stop you if you want to fight with us. But if you go out there with us, you listen to me right now. You're still my little brother, and it's my job to keep you safe. So you are never more than two inches from my side okay?"

Thom nodded, and handed me his backpack as he shouldered his rifle, John walked back in with the sidearm I had asked him about earlier. Despite the seriousness of the situation, I couldn't help but smile. I should have expected something like this from my older brother. After all it was John who got me into Resident Evil in the first place. The sidearm in John's holster was another Beretta 6f, but it was the Albert Wesker model rather than the Barry Burton variant.

"Surprised?" John asked.

I shook my head. "Not really. Come on let's get going. Oh and if you see something shuffling towards you. Aim for the head." I said before heading outside.

Dad had gotten his large generation 2 Hummer pulled out of the garage, and mom and Katie were loading it with everything they could pack. I made my way over to my Cobra, and deposited the duffel bag of guns next to my own personal weapons in my trunk, Thom placed his backpack next to the duffel and slammed the trunk down.

"Can I drive?" He asked as he admired my car.

"Keep dreaming little brother." I said shaking my head. "But you can ride shotgun."

The engine on my car roared to life as I pulled up next to my Dad's Hummer. Thom slid the passenger side window down, as my dad rolled his drivers side window down.

"You keep on my bumper. But damage my car, and the Zombies will be the least of your worries." I told my father who rolled his eyes. I pressed my foot on the gas, and roared down the winding driveway, followed by a dark blue Hummer, and a dark red 1973 El Camino. To my surprise West Genesee street was empty, everyone else must be busy with trying to get the hell out of dodge. With nobody around, I gunned the engine and the surrounding buildings became blurs on either side. After cutting through the back roads driving like someone out of _Fast and Furious_ , our three vehicles pulled up the long driveway of MHI's Syracuse division's compound, and pulled into the large garage. Thom was laughing like a mad man as he stepped out of the passenger side.

"That was awesome! When do I get to drive?"

"When you get your own." I replied laughing.

"Aw come on bro." He whined, causing me to shake my head.

"Fine, but not when our home town is under siege by the undead."

Thom nodded, but his attention turned to Clare as she made her way into the garage and headed straight for me. My first thought was: 'Shit she's gonna hit me.' However the air was knocked out of my lungs, but not by her fist. I got pulled into a near bone crushing hug.

"Clare… I can't breathe…" I struggled to get the words out.

"Sorry." She said as she let me go. "I was worried about you."

"Alex." My Mom said as she walked up to us. "You didn't tell us you had a girlfriend."

My face flushed red, as my Mom had that tone all mothers do when they tease their children. And I know everyone's mother has used it at some point in their lives, so nobody would say that I'm wrong in saying that tone of voice drives me insane.

"Mom she's-" I started, but Clare cut me off.

"Clare Valentine." She said extending her hand towards my Mom. "I'm Alex's girlfriend."

I felt the heat on my cheeks get hotter, as I couldn't believe what Clare had just said. Hell I was stunned beyond words. I had feelings for Clare, I wasn't going to deny that, and everyone on the team knew. But it floored me completely to hear Clare say that when I hadn't even asked her out.

"Anna Morrison." My mom replied smiling as she shook Clare's hand.

"It's nice to finally meet you. I'd give you the tour, but there's a situation occurring that takes priority at the moment." Clare said with a small grimace.

"I heard. But is there somewhere we can place our-" My Mom began, before Clare cut her off.

"Follow me. Alex Pat said to armor up, then meet up in the rec room."

I nodded, as Clare led my family towards the barracks that resembled a 5 star hotel, and I made my way to the armory to get my armor on. I had just secured my chestplate, when my new 'girlfriend' made her way into the armory and got her armor on as well.

"Girlfriend?" I asked, and not bothering to hide my smile.

"It was only a matter of time before one of us asked. Plus your mom put you on the spot, so I figured I should save you the embarrassment of being scolded by your mother." Clare explained.

"Well thank you."

"Anytime, but just out of curiosity, when were you going to ask?" Clare asked me with a slight tilt of her head.

"Today actually. That is if the Zombies hadn't screwed up my plans." I responded. "I had this whole romantic dinner planned."

"Damn Zombies ruining our first date." She growled in mock anger.

"Guess we gotta go kill them." I replied smirking.

"Let's go meet up with Pat first."

We made our way up to the second floor, and I was surprised to find my Grandfather with the rest of the team, along with the rest of my family. My parents and my siblings sans Katie were stunned into silence as he explains where he'd been, and what he was doing since 1995. Of course he didn't mention about the whole family being hybrids between two of the most powerful monsters on earth. To my surprise, Dad was taking this rather well.

"Ah there you are Alex." Grandpa said as we joined the team. "You alright?"

"I'm in one piece Grandpa." I said. "Where's Earl?"

"On his way. He'll meet us in the city with his team. In the meantime here's the gameplan. Earl's placed me in temporary command of the team for now. MCB is rolling in from South Salina. An Agent by the name of Locke is in tactical command. The Scranton team should be here in ten. We roll out in twenty, and take Route Eighty One towards the city. Clear the mall first, then move towards downtown. Several other Hunter Teams will insert into Liverpool, and clear out the hordes, they'll push towards where the MCB is inserting and assist them. We find any civilians, we get them the hell out. Understood?"

There was a resounding unanimous chorus of 'YES SIR' before we were dismissed, and the team, my father and two brothers made their way to the armory. Dad tried to stop Thom, but John, Grandpa, and myself came to his defense, and dad relented. He wasn't happy about his youngest son going out there, but as he was 18, he couldn't protest all that much.

I holstered my twin Jerico's behind my back on my belt. My Beretta went into the holster on my hip. After I retrieved my G36, and Spas from my Cobra, I loaded 8 shells into my shotgun, and stuffed a 50 round drum mag into both my G36, and into Gungnir. My Kukiri went under my left armpit, my combat hatchet was slung along my left leg. I stopped when I got to the Katana that took off the cultist a while back, and instead handed it to Thom. He was the martial artist in the family, despite his punk rock look. I said it before, and I'll say it again. He can move like Bruce Lee, and punch like Mike Tyson. So I had no problem letting him have the single-edge Japanese blade.

Thom once properly fitted in one of the spare armor sets, slung the Katana along his back like I did from right to left. His Sig P220, was holstered on his right hip. I let him borrow one of the Remmington 12 gage shotguns that I had in my trunk. I had those loaded with Frag 12 shells and I told Thom to be careful. He still had his M1 in his hand, and I was surprised that he had a substantial amount of ammunition for it. Or rather, Grandpa had supplied him with it. His backpack of what I found out were five other handguns, were strapped in various places around his armor. He had a Walther P38 which went on his right boot, two baby Sigs that went into a custom Galco rig, and like Isabelle, twin 1911's that were holstered behind his back. I don't think I'll ever know where my little brother got all that hardware though.

John opted for a spare M4 we had in the armory. It had an Acog scope side mounted laser sight and tactical light, an underbarrel grip, and was fitted with an extended mag of 40 rounds rather than the usual 30 in a standard M4. His Wesker model Beretta like my own was holstered on his right hip, and he had a KA-BAR knife sheathed along his waist behind his back.

My dad opted to use the M16 he had used through Desert Storm, and Mogadishu. Do not ask me how in hell he was able to keep that weapon, because I have no idea in hell. It was nothing special compared to the weapons the rest of the team had, as it was standard issue, but in this situation he opted to use the 40 round extended magazine He like most of the team opted for a 1911. He had an M9 bayonett on his left hip, and had his 30-6 hunting rifle slung along his back. Dad loved that rifle, and he refused to go hunting without it. Weather it was deer, or now monster. Dad never gave the rifle up, so why should this situation be any different?

Everyone on the team checked and re-checked their weapons, as an all too familiar engine roared into the driveway of the compound. I knew only one car that roared as loud as that, and sure enough in a matter of seconds, Steeve Cooper's blue kick-ass GTO pulled up, and he and his fiance Odette exited the car followed by a Rottweiler wearing a heavy duty tactical vest. Steve and I bro hugged, before I knelt down to greet the Rottweiler Steve called Hondo. Turns out, he's a very friendly and affectionate puppy, as I spent the next minute wiping dog slobber off my face.

"Hey if everyone's all here." My older brother John began. "I'd like everyone to gather round."

Everyone gathered around in a large circle as he began to speak again.

"In my Ranger unit, we had a tradition. Before every mission, we'd all bow our heads and say a prayer. Now I know this isn't my unit, however regardless of anyone's faith, I still suggest we bow our heads."

There was a murmur of agreement, and everyone bowed their heads. After a moment of silence, John spoke up once again. "In the immortal words of Jay Z: _Whatever deity may guide my life, dear God don't let me die tonight. But if I shall before I wake, I accept my fate._ " After another moment of silence, John broke it once more. "HELL YEAH!?"

There was a loud resounding chorus of 'HELL YEAH' before we loaded up on our vehicles.


	21. Chapter 21 Game time

Chapter 21. Game time

Both Hunter Teams rolled out in our big SUV's. I was riding shotgun in the second vehicle, with Isabelle driving, Clare behind me, and James in the seat behind Isabelle. I clutched Gungnir in my hands tightly, as we passed by the emptied husks of several cars. My guess is that whoever was driving, either didn't want to get stuck in traffic, or the Zombies got way too close for comfort, and they bailed.

"Hope they got away in time." James said as he stared out his window, rolling a Frag 12 shell between his fingers.

"Nervous James?" Isabelle asked as she looked at him through the rearview mirror.

James nodded. "It's the Zombie Apocalypse Belle." He responded as he clutched the explosive shell in his right hand. "I'm scared shitless."

"Well that's good." The three of us looked at her like she was crazy, but she turned her head and smiled at us. "I didn't want to be the only one."

We broke into a small bout of laughter, before our convoy came to a halt, and my Grandpa's voice came over the com channel from the lead SUV. "Traffic's backed up too much. We'll go on foot from here."

The engines to our SUV's died, and James loaded the explosive Frag 12 shell into his Benelli, before we hopped out. We were right under the old railroad bridge in Solvay. Actions were cycled, charging handles were raked back, and safeties were snapped off. We formed two teams on either side of the road. From here it was a straight shot to Carousell.

The fireteam on the left side of the street consisted of a mix of my team meaning it was Clare, Dimitri, John, Thom, and several Northeast team members: Team leader Dominique Turner who had a custom G3KA4 assault rifle along with an HK45 sidearm, and a big ass combat knife. Her armor was stuffed with corresponding magazines for both weapons. Steeve, who mained his high customized FAL, with a 30 round drop magazine. A Mossberg Shotgun was slung along his back. He had two Sigs holstered on his armor, a full sized Sig on his hip, and a baby Sig in a Galco rig. A Katana and a Wakizashi was strapped on his armor. Hondo was right beside his owner, low to the ground. Their intel expert Shannon, who had a monster of a shotgun in her hands. A Milo Anderson special. It was a highly customized Warhammer shotgun she called Boudica, with an odd underbarrel contraption that she said was a surprise. She also had a big Kukiri like mine strapped to her left thigh.

The fireteam on the right side was Grandpa, Dad, Pat, Isabelle, and James. The Northeast team members with them were: Marksman Jon Callahan, who was rocking a DMR variant of a Crusader Broadsword (since I'm no gun nut, I couldn't tell what attachments he had on it), and a pair of 1911's (which along with the Sig Saur seemed to be the main sidearm of MHI. Demo expert Scotty who had a custom pair of Schofield revolvers (which were awesome and I was dying to shoot them and so was Pat). He had a Beneli shotgun that like James' was loaded with explosive Frag 12 rounds. His knives were as unusual as the rest of his loadout. which were replicas of the battle axes the Franks had used, and they were slung along his back. Then there was Chris, who like Connor had a big M60 in his hands, and like almost everyone else had a pair of 1911's. The final member of the Northeast team to take position on the right side of the street was Odette. The safety on her UMP was snapped off, and she was gripping it tightly in her hands. Her custom Galco rig had a full size Smith & Weston 4566 on her left side, and the smaller variant the 4516 on her right. To be honest, she seemed to be the most prepared out of all of us.

Both teams made their way down the street, past the empty husks of the abandoned cars. Some gave me this sharp pain in my stomach, when I noticed that they had splotches of blood on them. The Zombies had been through here, yet the one thing that was odd about this whole situation, and that was it was oddly and erily silent.

"Where is everybody?" I asked more to myself. I was expecting to see thousands of bodies, both human and undead.

"Everyone most likely ran to the mall, and the Zombies followed them." Northeast team leader Dominique replied, as both fireteams passed by two car dealerships on either side.

"Hold on." John said, his tone low. "Movement in the Subaru dealership."

Our group stopped as one, and slowly turned to the left. Sure enough there were people in the Subaru dealership. At least a dozen, and they were backed up against the glass windows of the showroom floor. What made my stomach drop was that a horde of Zombies were slowly making their way towards the civilians.

"Contact. Left side of the street. Subaru dealership." I said into the com line in a low voice.

"Copy." Pat responded. "We've got contact in the Ford dealership as well."

"There's no time to breach." Dominique said. "We're gonna have to shoot through the glass."

"Confirmed." My Grandpa's gruff Irish voice cracked over the line. "If you have the shot take it. but watch your fire. We don't need a civi gettn' clipped"

Dad, Dimitri, Scotty, Steve, and Thom raised their rifles. There was an assortment of loud _cracks_ and _booms_ as the rifles discharged. There was also an assortment of panicked screams as the glass windows the civilians were pressed against shattered as the bullets from our teams weapons sailed through the glass, entered the Zombies heads, splattering their black blood on the showroom cars. When the last undead husk dropped, we moved in to make sure the civilians hadn't been bitten. Fortunately, there was no major damage other than a few scrapes from hitting the pavement.

"Alex?" I recognised the voice, and turned to find a girl with light brown hair talking to me.

 _Aw fuck!_ It was Sarah Evans. We used to date one another … Well that's actually a subjective term. I treated her like a queen, and she … Well she cheated on me. A lot. And that's normally the prime motive in all those crime shows. Luckily before that thought even crossed my mind, I got attacked by a Vampire.

"Hey Sarah." I said, not bothering to keep the disdain out of my voice. However I almost burst out laughing, when some skinny little twig, came and put his arms around her, trying to act Alpha. The display was absolutely pathetic. Not to mention hilarious.

"Ohhhh damn this is funny. I mean this little toothpick is who you ended up with?" Despite the seriousness of the situation, I couldn't help myself. This girl put me through hell, and seeing the scrawny little nothing she ended up with just made me laugh.

"Oh keep talkin' bitch." The toothpick said trying to goad me. "Without all those guns, I'd fuck you up."

His goading to an extent worked. I flicked Gungnir's safety on, walked up to him, grabbed the front of his shirt with my left hand, and lifted him off his feet. "Do yourself a favor bitch. After you're done pissing your pants, run back to your mommy, lock yourself in your room, and stay there. Or better yet, I can rid Syracuse of one less poser, and feed you to the Zombies."

He ran away faster than Tom Brady does from people who accuse him of cheating (which he does all the time).

"Maybe you'll learn not to follow Tom Brady's example now." Clare said to my ex, earning a couple laughs from the team, and even from the shaken civilians. "But then again, if you didn't, I wouldn't have met Alex. So I guess I owe you for that."

Clare and I high-fived, before Domanique got the civilians into the dealerships maintenance garage, and sealed it tight telling them we would send someone once the mall was secured. Grandpa's team did the same with the rescued civilians at the Ford dealership, and we resumed our trek to the mall. All was quiet again, which really weirded me out. If this was some heavy duty Zombie outbreak, where were all the Zombies and the panicked people? I voiced this to the team, and Thom said that everyone ran to where it would be the safest, and the Zombies followed.

"Still though. There should be a lot more than the handful we put down… Shit.." My voice cut out as we were on the bridge over the river that fed into Onondaga Lake. From that viewpoint, we had a good look at the large shopping center. There were hundreds. Thousands of Zombies gathered in the large parking lot, all attempting to claw their way inside.

"Forget Resident Evil. This is more like Dead Rising." John said, his Irish accent having come out.

"Alex do all the men in your family play video games?" Clare asked.

"John got us hooked, so you can blame him." I replied not taking my eyes eyes off the parking lot, my own Irish accent coming out.

"Alex. Do. Not. Move." Dimitri said in a low voice. "There is a laser sight on your chest."

I froze. I felt my blood turn to ice. I glanced down at my chest, and sure enough, there was the little red dot. however, it was gone the next moment. Then back, then gone, then back and gone again. This couldn't have been a malfunctioning laser sight. This was something else. The dot appeared on my chest nine times … Nine times.

 _Dot, dot, dot, dash, dash, dash, dot, dot, dot._

"SOS." Everyone said at the same time, before we looked to see where it had come from.

"There." Dimitri said pointing towards the glass bridge that connected the new parking lot to the mall, so the patrons wouldn't have to walk across the busy intersection. Sure enough we all saw the red dot in one of the windows flash nine times. John raised his M4, and flashed his side mounted tactical light at the glass bridge twice. Signalling we had gotten the SOS. The red dot flashed twice in response.

Our fireteam merged with the team on the right, and we made our way into the new parking lot which was surprisingly devoid of any Zombies. the glass door was not only chained shut, but someone had shoved a crowbar in between the handles of both doors. Someone really didn't want the Zombies getting in. I couldn't see who it was that took the crowbar out, and unwrapped the heavy duty chain from the door, as the lights were out, but I was in for a surprise when I heard him speak.

"About time you got here." Big surprise when I heard Agent Creed's voice.

"What are you doing here Agent Creed?" I asked in surprise.

"It's not 'Agent' anymore Mr. Morrison. My bosses weren't too happy I gave your company free reign over the Second Amendment."

"They gave you the boot." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"They did. Fortunately for me." He pulled back his coat, revealing he still had his service issue Glock.

"Good. That means you can fight." My grandfather said as he made his way inside. "What's the situation here Agent?"

"Not 'Agent' anymore." Creed said, as he chained the door, and placed the crowbar back between the door handles. "Anyway, there are a few hundred civilians here, all scared out of their minds. It's been me and and a handful of County Sheriffs that have been trying to keep everyone calm in the hope that someone would come and get us out of here."

"Are all the doors bolted like this?" Pat asked.

"Yes. We lucked out as there are parts of the mall that are still under construction, so it was easy to find a couple crowbars. The chains we got from Dicks Sporting Goods."

"Nice, but why aren't there any Zombies by the bridge?" Pat asked the question we were all wondering ourselves.

"After the Chimera, all the windows were replaced with heavy duty bullet proof glass. It would take a train running at full speed to break this stuff." Creed explained, and I was impressed with what had been done, but that raised a red flag.

"How could you possibly know about the Chimera?" I asked incredulously.

"One of the Sheriffs here told me about it. A man named Sachus. He's a good guy." Creed said.

I gave one of those 'why do I even bother' shrugs. "Alright, but why are there no Zombies over here?"

"When they couldn't get in over here, they did what you normally see in those B-grade horror films." Creed said.

"Oh you mean surround the place, and pound on the doors until they get in?" Thom chimed in?

"Exactly."

We had crossed the now bulletproof glass bridge, and had entered the new expansion of the mall. There were hundreds of civilians packed in like sardines on the three floors of the expansion. Frightened, panicked, scared shitless sardines. There were a handful of cops, all in body armor armed with M4 rifles. It looked like they had gotten hold of a S.W.A.T truck. The cops did have a bit of a calming factor to the civilians, but it wasn't much as there were still thousands of undead husks trying to claw their way inside.

"We have to get these people out of here." Grandpa said as the panicked civilians eyed us. A few had heard him mention evac, and had started spreading that throughout the crowd.

 _Great. Just what we need._

"Marcus Morrison to anyone in the vicinity of Carousel mall." Grandpa spoke into his com. "We have several hundred civilians in need of immediate evac. If anyone can assist, please respond over."

Several seconds later, another voice broke out over the com line.

" _Copy Mr. Morrison, there is an Army Ranger battalion in the area that can evac the civilians. They'll be there in five, and will swing in from the south entrance and escort the civilians to the air base over."_

Grandpa nodded, and spoke back into his com. "Copy that. Have them form in the parking lot, by that fancy new glass bridge. Can you confirm?"

" _Confirmed Morrison. Rangers will form up at that position. ETA three mikes. Out."_

Grandpa nodded, before walking over to the balcony and began addressing the frightened civilians. "Everyone listen up! You are all getting out of here. There is a convoy of Rangers that are approaching, and will be here in three minutes. What I need from all of you is to very slowly make your way towards the bridge on my right."

Everyone paused for a moment, before there was a mad dash to the glass bridge. However everyone stopped in their tracks, when Grandpa discharged his sidearm.

"I SAID SLOWLY!" He yelled at the crowd, before turning to address the rest of the team, and former Agent Creed. "Now we don't have a lot of time. So Turner, I want your team covering the main street at the intersection, but watch your backgrounds. Dont need any civis gettn' clipped."

Dominique nodded and motioned for her team to follow. The Northeast team moved their way past the civilians, as they moved to their position.

"Now Alex, Clare, John, Patrick, Thomas. You're under the bridge by the river providing security to the Rangers. Connor, Dimitri. You two are on overwatch on top of the bridge. Connor you're covering Dimitri. Nothing gets close to him. Son. You, me, and James are watching the civis. Move out."

We moved past the civilians, over the glass bridge, through the parking lot, and took our positions under the bridge. Clare, Thom, and myself were taking up a position on the left side. On the concrete support beams John and Pat were on the right closer to the parking lot. It was only a few seconds until the Rangers Humvees came into sight. A full two dozen, with several Humvees having a man on a mounted .50 cal machinegun. An impressive piece of hardware if I've ever seen one. As the last Humvee passed us, two Rangers hopped out, and joined us.

"Sargent Morrison, mind telling me what the hell you're doing here?" The Ranger asked John.

"Assisting my little brother and his team Captain." John replied, as his commanding officer looked us over.

"MHI right?" the captain asked us.

"How would you know that?" I asked.

"I was there during the Cursed One incident. I was just a Staff Sargent back then, and that was a real nasty fight we got into. But it's good to work with MHI again."

Nobody said another word, as the horde of Zombies began to shuffle it's way towards us. There was the distinct sound of gunfire coming from where Dominque's team was. If they were opening up on the Zombies, we weren't going to be selfish with our ammo. I brought Gungnir to bear, zeroed the iron sights in on the head of one of the closest Zombie, and squeezed the trigger. The undead husks dropped like flies, as the 7.62 high velocity armor piercing rounds tore through their skulls, splattering the ground with their black blood. All of us were firing in short bursts, with Thom being the exception as he had a semi-automatic World War II era rifle in his hand.

Thom was the first who needed to stop and reload, as his M1 rifle ran out of ammo with an audible _Ping!_ He ducked around the concrete pillar, and I stepped out firing and covering my baby brother as he reloaded. As the Zombies edged closer and closer to us, a large number of them were shredded from a gunman above the bridge. The thundering sound of Connor's large M60 was unmistakable, as he 'mowed the lawn' something he liked saying whenever he went up against a large number of undead. My 30 round mag clicked empty, as I was saving my large 50 and 100 round drums for when we pushed into downtown Syracuse. I ducked around the pillar, as Thom stepped out to cover me so I could reload. I hit the release, and the empty magazine dropped to the pavement. I dug another out of a pouch on my chest, and slammed it home. Racking the charging handle back, I came out to cover Clare who needed to reload.

"Humvees are away!" John's Captain yelled over the gunfire. "They'll be back in ten!"

"Well they better bring some air support!" Clare responded. "We might run out of ammo before that!"

"I have three Black Hawks on station! they're two mikes away!" The Captain yelled, as he reloaded, and got back into the fight.

Clare, Pat, and the second Ranger all clicked empty. I was just about out too, but I still had an ace up my sleeve. I tightened my left hand around the launcher under Gungnir's barrel, braced the weapon, and pulled the launcher's trigger. The 40mm explosive round discharged with an audible _Thunk_ , sailed through the air, impacted on the closest Zombie and a sick smirk crossed my face as I watched ten of the husks disappear in a cloud of fire, blood, and silver shrapnel. With that, everyone who needed to reload their weapons, slammed fresh mags in, as the loud roar of the three Black Hawk's assaulted our ears. Even through my teams electric earplugs, the noise was deafening.

" _This is Nighthawk one-one, Nighthawk one-two, and Nighthawk one-three on station providing cover fire."_ The pilot of one of the attack choppers said into our coms, before the gunmen of the choppers opened up on the undead horde. I couldn't help but laugh in sick pleasure, as I watched the Zombies drop like flies, as the gunmen cut them down.

The Humvees returned several minutes later, the gunners on the vehicles .50 cal machine guns adding to the collective fire of the choppers, and in a matter of seconds, any Zombie still in our field of view, was reduced to undead chunks.

" _Nighthawk one-one to Hammer one-one. All hostiles are down. Repeat. All hostiles are down. Returning to base over."_ Nighthawk 1-1 said into our coms.

"Negative Nighthawk. Negative." The captain replied. I need your team to airlift two ground teams, and get them into the city. How copy?"

" _Roger Hammer one-one. Nighthawk's one-one and one-two touching down over."_

The The Blackhawk choppers flew over the bridge, and touched down in the two parking lots behind our position. All 7 of us reloaded our weapons, and I put one of Gungnir's 50 round drum mags in, as Dominique and her team loaded up on Nighthawk 1-1 and my team along with the other two Rangers loaded up on Nighthawk 1-2. The rotor blades of the Nighthawk spun up, and we lifted off in the attack chopper heading towards downtown Syracuse, and further into the fight.


	22. Chapter 22 Knee deep in the dead

Chapter 22. Knee deep in the dead.

As our choppers sailed through the night air, my question about where all the Zombies were was answered. The husks were everywhere. Every road, every sidewalk, every available inch of space they were there. There was no breathing room, and therefore no space to land. We were right above the Route 81 overpass, just a couple blocks away from Upstate University Hospital. The scene was right out of a Zombie Apocalypse film. Cars were flipped over, some were on fire, and the streets were a mess of debri and corpses.

Someone place a hand on my shoulder, turning my head I saw it was Clare. She gave me a reassuring smile, although her eyes had a hardened tone to them. She took her hand off my shoulder, and my right hand started shaking. She put her hand back on my shoulder, and my hand stopped. I hadn't even noticed that had happened, but I understood despite no words having been said between us. I was scared. There was no doubt about that, my home was being overrun by Zombies, and that scared the hell out of me, and Clare was attempting successfully to cheer me up. Our small moment was broken when Pat spoke up.

"There are too many to land safely." Pat said over the roar of the chopper's rotors. "We're gonna have to fast rope."

"Not safe either. We'd get over run in seconds." Grandpa countered, before he turned to the pilot. "Your boys got anything left in those guns Nighthawk?"

" _Affirmative. One-one, and one-two moving in for gun run."_ Nighthawk 1-1 said in our ears, before the Blackhawks moved in lower, and their side mounted miniguns spun up. Both gunners of Nighthawk's 1-1 and 1-2 opened up, and in a matter of seconds had created a large circle in the overpass from the Zombies.

"L-Z is clear. We're fast-roping down." Grandpa said as the gunners clicked empty. Two ropes were tossed down from either side of both choppers, and our teams made their way down to the pavement below. Now when you rope down from a helicopter, they say it takes about five seconds to hit the ground. For me it didn't feel like five seconds. More like half a second.

"Now I know why that guy in _Blackhawk Down_ had that mouthpiece in before he dropped." I said after I regained my balance.

"You get used to it after a few drops." Dad assured me, as he helped Thom to his feet.

" _Hammer one-one. Both teams are away. RTB to re-fuel and re-arm."_ Nighthawk 1-1 said into our ears, as the four ropes were cut away, landing at our feet.

"Copy Nighthawk." John's Captain replied. "What's one-three's status?"

" _Nighthawk one-three just dropped off the civilians in the automotive dealerships. He'll be covering Hammer squad as they push into downtown. ETA five minutes."_

"Nothing takes five minutes Nighthawk."

" _Copy that Hammer."_

Nighthawk 1-1 and 1-2 soon became lost as the night sky swallowed the attack helicopters, and we were left a horde of Zombies on the overpass. 12 Hunters, 3 Rangers, and 1 gun loving civilian. However, that was small comfort compared to what we were facing. There were still thousands of Zombies on and below the overpass, and they were slowly shuffling their way towards us. We didn't know where Earl and his team was, Locke and the MCB were on the other side of the city, and Hammer squad was five minutes away, but like John's Captain said: Nothing takes five minutes. Plus with all the Zombies on the highway, Hammer squad was more like half an hour away. We were dropped off in the middle of a hot zone, with backup almost too far off.

Certainty of death, and a small chance of success. I loved those odds.

"Alright listen up." Grandpa said, as the Zombies got closer. "We're fighting our way off this overpass. We're gonna take up position in the hospital, and wait for Hammer squad to get here. Conserve your ammo. Fire in bursts, our squad fires first. Turner when we reload, your team covers us."

Before anyone could open up on the wall of flesh that was slowly making its way towards us, Earl Harbinger's voice cracked over the com line. "You there Martin?"

Our eyes widened slightly before Pat responded. "I'm here boss. What's up?"

"Quit callin' me boss Martin, and listen up. The situation is worse than we thought." Earl responded.

Everyone looked at one another in shock. What could be worse than a horde of undead flesh? Everyone's grips on their weapons tightened. "Worse how Earl?"

"We think that the Zombies are being summoned by a Voodoo Priestess. That means no matter how many we kill, that bitch'll keep bringing corpses up that want to eat us for dinner."

I heard Steve curse. "There was a Voodoo Priestess in Philly. She gave MHI a lot of trouble and nearly killed a former MCB agent." He explained to us.

"You just find a position, and hold out. Back up is on the way." Earl spoke into our coms.

I paused for a second. Backup? We had backup on the way. Hammer squad was heading to our position as we spoke. Who else was coming to provide backup for two teams of hunters, two civilians, and a whole squadron of Army Rangers? A split second after this thought had crossed my mind, two long drawn out bone chilling howls rang out seemingly from all around. Everyone snapped their weapons up, we formed a large circle, our weapons scanning for any sign of what we knew were Werewolves.

Seconds later, we saw them. They launched themselves onto the overpass, their backs turned to us. The wolf to my right had fur as black as the night sky, and the wolf to my left had fur that was snow white. Yet nobody fired at them. Everyone was shocked to see that despite them being nearly eight feet tall, they had on identical sets of heavy-duty MHI armor. The wolves looked over their shoulders at one another, the white furred wolf gave the black furred one an almost imperceptible nod, which was returned. A split second later, both Werewolves were a blur of motion as they charged at the undead wall of flesh. Blood sprayed, and body parts were strewn everywhere, as the wolves ripped the Zombies to pieces. Within seconds, the overpass was cleared of hostiles. The werewolves were back where they had started. Directly in front of us, but facing us this time.

The fur on both wolves began to receed, and they began to shrink down to human size. Their apperance was shocking. They didn't see to be any older than Pat was. And they were identical. Twin brothers, both Werewolves were twin brothers. Before they said anything, they took a pair of boots laced to the back of their armor, and placed them on their bare feet.

"Anyone hurt?" The man who had been the white furred Werewolf asked us. We all shook our heads, which satisfied the wolf brothers as they stood. Everyone seemed to have forgotten about the Zombies, as we were all staring at the wolves. They seemed to have picked up on thi, as the white furred wolf spoke up again.

"Nate Marshall." He said indicating himself. "That's my twin Rolland. Just like all of you we're Hunters, only difference is that for as long as we can remember our family has been hunting monsters. Every single one of them a Werewolf like us."

Rolland spoke next, finishing his twins explination. "Our family, or pack work alongside a coven of Vampires. Yes I said Vampires." He had clearly noticed the shocked look on all our faces. "The Selene's are one of the last living Vampire family lines, and we've trusted them for a very long time so don't get jumpy with your trigger fingers."

My grandpa stepped forward. "Hold up. If you worked for MHI then how is it I've never seen you before?" His eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

"That's because we don't officially work for MHI." Rolland spoke up agian. "We work freelance for them sometimes, but only when the shit's really hit the fan. Plus you were keeping an eye on Raymond Shackleford after you faked your death. Earl filled us in completely. Plus it's rather hard to keep tabs on other hunters, if you're making sure someone who went off the reservation like Raymond doesn't go off the reservation again."

"Look you can explain this later." Dominique said as another horde of Zombies came up the ramp to Route 81. "We have to find out where that Priestess is. We're going to have to fight our way through the hordes. Plus we have civilians to evacuate."

Rolland nodded and tossed his twin a rifle. When I saw it my eyes widened. It was an obvious custom job. The rifle had no scope, and settled on its iron sights. There was a KA-BAR bayonett along the underbarrel. That bayonett and along the stock were painted a deep red, as if blood had been splattered along the rifle. The white furred Werewolf had customised his rifle in the fashion of the Read Death weapon from Bungie's second most popular game, Destiny.

Pat, Clare, and myself all looked at one another. We had the same look of excited disbelief, despite the situation at hand. But seconds later, as the horde moved towards us, it was back to doing what we got paid to do. At once all of our weapon's snapped up, we fired in bursts and the undead horde along the entrance ramp dropped.

"Hospital!" Grandpa roared when we stopped to reload. "Get to the Hospital now!"

We moved quickly but carefully down the entrance ramp to the highway, burst firing at any Zombies that got too close. Once or twice I saw the Marshall twins take a swing with their bare hands that decapitated a Zombie. The twin's strength was clearly impressive, but I had to remind myself that they were Werewolves, and their strength was almost equal to mine. I mean just like the Marshall's and their family friends the Selene's, the Morrison family had some supernatural blood in their veins as well.

When we got to the glass doors of the hospital, it was to find that there were several rifles pointed at us. To our surprise, several Police officers were pointing service issue M4 rifles in our direction. After a minute of explination, the officers lowered their weapons, and let us in. The hospital was packed with freaked out civilians who wanted nothing more than to get somewhere safe. I.e. The hell out of Syracuse.

It was then I heard Rolland speak into his com. "Maya, we're gonna need an air evac. Heavy security. Upstate University hospital. Yeah shit's hit the fan." Rolland was silent for a few seconds, and he spoke up once more. "Alright sis. See you soon."

Just like at the mall, the civilians had heard Rolland talking about evacuation, several of them moved towards Rolland disbelief on their faces.

"What did you say?"

"We're leaving?"

"When?"

"How soon until they get here?"

"Everyone calm down." Nate said loudly. "There is an evac en route coming in two minutes to the helipad on the roof."

John's Captain spoke up just then. "Hammer's humvees are heading here too. I've also got three Black Hawks coming to provide cover fire. Anyone who wants to get out by ground, stay here and we'll keep you safe until you're on the humvees."

Grandpa turned to Domanique. "Turner, your team stays here. You're guarding any civi's who want to get out by ground. My team is escorting any civi's who want an air lift. Marshall's you're with my team. Now everyone move out."

To my surprise, these civilians were better better behaved than the ones at Carousell. They were panicked yes, but they were organised. After several minutes, and several flights of stairs our group made their way onto the roof just as a vehicle was touching down on the helipad. I think the correct name for the vehicle is called a V-Tol. It's an aircraft that's mostly found on the decks of Naval aircraft carriers. The V-Tol has rotating propellor wings that turn vertical when landing, and that's what myself and the rest of the team saw touching down on the helipad, and about a hundred feet above was a second V-Tol.

The ramp to the V-Tol opened and a very beautiful woman stepped out onto the ramp. Her long brown hair fell to the middle of her back, even in the dark I could tell that her eyes were the same shade as her hair. She was wearing a much more form fitting version of MHI's standard armor. And there was a UMP equipped with a silencer and an ACOGG scope.

"Two at a time." She spoke to the civilians, in a gentle but firm tone. Her voice had a slightly musical tone to it, and I wasn't the only one who noticed. Nearly every male member of my team was staring at this woman, and a split second later I realised why. This woman was a Vampire. How did I know that? It was because Susan Shackleford had that same tone of voice. Even when she was in the middle of a fight, her voice had a slight musical and alluring tone to it. This woman was basically the perfect predator, in that everything about her was designed to draw you in. Right before she sank her fangs into your neck.

The civilians stepped forward two at a time, just as the female Vampire had ordered. But we were all shocked when she stepped forward, and embraced the one of the Marshall twins. "Em, finding it a little hard to breathe." Nate said lightly gasping for air.

"Sorry." She said smiling, and in a tone that indicated that she wasn't sorry at all. Em then turned to the V-Tol and spoke into her com. "All the civilians are on board Maya. Get them to safety."

The ramp on the Naval aircraft closed, and the V-Tol lifted itself into the air, and headed in the opposite direction of three Black Hawk's. When the first V-Tol was clear, the second moved down. When its ramp dropped, another Vampire stepped out. Male this time, he had shoulder length brown hair that was the same shade of as the female. His eyes were a lighter shade, he was a few inches taller than I was, and he wore a dark coat over his armor. The only weapon he was armed with was a longsword. It clearly must have been made out of silver. This guy must have been a bit of a traditionalist.

"Two at a time." He said in a more stern voice, and this time it seemed to be the women on our team who seemed captivated by his voice.

" _Hammer one-one. This is Nighthawk one-one on station. Hammer squad is loading civilians into the humvees, but there are a high number of hostiles heading their way. One-two is moving in for a gun run."_ Nighthawk spoke into our coms, but the male Vampire shook his head.

"No need for that." He said, and I noticed that he had a slight European accent. He drew his blade, seconds before he leapt off the roof. Several of us myself included watched in amazement, as the Vampire landed on his feet clearly unharmed. He twirled his blade in his hands once before he was a blur of motion as he began slicing the approaching Zombies into Sashimi.

"Damn the guy is fast." Pat said clearly impressed.

"What are you talking about?" Thom asked, his voice a tone of incredulity. "He's moving slow to me."

"Yeah he's moving slow to me too." I said, and the words were out of my mouth not a split second before I realised what Thom had just said. He said that the Vampire on the ground was moving slow, and for my family a Supernatural creature seemingly moving slower than normal meant only one thing. Thom's Hybrid blood was kicking in.

I felt someone nudge my side, and Pat looked at me in that way that said I should talk to my baby brother, and I responded by mouthing the word: 'later.' I would tell Thom, John, and my dad. Of course I knew that Grandpa would help me out there too.

"Ground's clear. Humvees can move out safe." The Vampire spoke into our coms. His voice was still stern. "I'll stay here and make sure nothing unwanted gets in until all the civilians are away."

The second V-Tol lifted off, and headed in the direction the first one flew off in. Towards the base at the airport. We still had civilians that needed evan, and Nighthawk's 1-1, 1-2, and 1-3 were still in the air, so we could still get the civilians out. And apparently the Blackhawk pilots thought the same thing, because Nighthawk 1-1 touched down on the helipad several seconds later.

It was several seconds later that we heard screaming.


	23. Chapter 23 Who do you Voodoo

Chapter 23. Who do you Voodoo?

"Marcus!" Dominique's voice cracked over our com line. "Contact in the lobby! Sons of bitches came through the damn floor!" Over her voice we could hear the unmistakeable sound of overlapping gunfire.

My Grandpa swore something inaudible under his breath, and his grip on his Tommy Gun tightened. "This is bad. We can't all go down there to assist, no matter how bad we'd all want to."

"I'll go then." I spoke up. Every member of my team, the Marshall twins, and that Vampire Em looked at me as if I had gone crazy.

"As it stands right now, I've got more firepower than the rest of the team." I explained indicating, Gungnir, my G36, Spas, and 3 side arms.

James loaded an explosive shell into his Benelli, and stepped forward. "Not going without me. I've got just as much firepower as you do."

"And you're sure as hell not going without me." Clare said as she joined me and James.

"We'll go as well." Em said joining us and motioning for the twins to join, which they did without question.

Grandpa nodded. "Alright. Cover Dominique and the civi's until the Humvees get back. One-two and one-three I need you two to stay and give us air support. Everyone else get our civi's off those stairs, and form a defensive perimeter until one-one and those other aircrafts get back."

There were short voices of confirmation from both one-two and one-three, before six hunters descended the stairs from the roof. "Dominique six friendlies are heading down from the roof. Watch your fire from the north staircase." I spoke into our com.

"Copy tha- shit. Scotty get fire on that Zombie!"

The six of us double timed it down the stairs.

The main lobby was engulfed in chaos. 7 hunters were opening up on a large hole in the hospital's tiled floor that looked to be about 10 feet in diameter. Dominique was torn between firing at anything that crawled out of that hole, and trying to control the panicked crowd of people. James took one look at the scene, slung his tactical shotgun, pulled out his M32, and hand just screamed 'fire in the hole' before the characteristic and unmistakable _THUNK_ of the launcher firing registered in my ears. Dominique and her team all jumped out of the way seconds before the explosive shell impacted and detonated in the middle of the 10 foot hole.

"Clear up!?" I heard someone yell. Despite the electronic earplugs we were issued along with our armor, there was still a loud ringing in my ears, so I couldn't recognise the voice too clearly, but it sounded like one of the Marshall twins.

"CLEAR UP!?" The voice yelled again.

"Clear down!" That voice I recognised. It was Steve Cooper's. He along with the rest of his team looked a little dazed from the explosion, but otherwise unharmed.

"Are you insane!?" Clare growled as she slapped James' arm with the back of her hand. "There are innocent people in here, and you decide to fire that launcher!? If one of them had been caught in that explosion, we could have been put out of business!"

Clare wasn't kidding when she said that. The MCB had some sort of federal law that prevented any monster hunting organization from harming civilians despite weather or not they were involved in causing an outbreak such as this. That same law is what also gives the MCB the right to 'silence' anyone who survived an encounter with anything supernatural that speaks out about it. I still remember Agent's Jefferson and Locke telling me not to say anything about my encounter with now former Agent Creed's Vampiric little brother. The message might have been slightly vague, but they got their point across.

"Nobody got hurt though. Just really shaken up." James countered trying to defend himself. To be honest, it was a pretty lame defense, but at the same time there weren't anymore undead husks crawling and clawing their way out of the hole.

That being said, Clare was about ready to counter James' remark when I stepped in. "Alright, alright, that's enough guys. James, Clare is right, that was stupid and reckless, and you could have hit a civilian. Clare, despite that, James did just clear the Zombies out of that hole."

Clare's eyes narrowed, and I could tell she was upset. But I couldn't tell weather it was at James, or myself as she walked off to comfort a little girl who was frightened because of the loud explosion caused by James' launcher. A moment later, James nudged my arm and jerked his head indicating we should head downstairs, and I agreed. I was not about to say something stupid to further rile Clare up.

"That was good thinking." Scotty said, as James and I joined Dominique's team on the main floor. Scotty was Dominique's demolition expert so I wasn't surprised to hear one man with a love for making things blow up comment someone else for doing just that.

"That was reckless though." Dominique piped up, and I could feel my eyes rolling as she said that. We had this argument not ten seconds ago and I really didn't want to go through it again.

"That hole looks a little too neat for Zombies to have made themselves." I interjected hoping that would prevent the argument that had just taken place on the second floor. And thankfully it did, as everyone turned to inspect it including that one sword wielding Vampire who had paved a way for Hammer squad's Humvees.

"He's right." The Vampire said with a scowl and his brow furrowed. "But that means someone else created this entrance."

"Looks like a shape charge." Scotty said. "Chris, James what do you guys think?"

Chris was Dominique's heavy weapons guy. He was tall and slim, his hair was buzzed so short that it was near impossible to tell what color his hair really was. His expression was hard like he had seen his fair share of fighting, and not just monsters. He had the air of a former soldier, my guess was that he was a retired Marine. I say 'retired' as there is no such thing as an 'ex'-Marine Like Connor, he had a big M60 LMG in his hands.

"Yeah this was definitely caused by a shape charge." James said, as he pointed to the lower edge of the 10 foot circle. It was jagged, yet it still had a rather smooth edge that most explosives had when creating an opening like this.

"Probably used C-4." Chris said briefly.

"But where the hell can Zombies get their hands on C-4?" Steve asked the group as he peered into the large hole, leveling his FAL semi-automatic rifle, just in case something poked its ugly head out of the hole. "Last time I checked, that's military grade explosive."

I felt a slight chill go up my spine, and James and I turned to one another and shared a look. We encountered a group a while back that had stolen military weapons.

"You don't think?" I asked with a jerk of my head in the direction of the hole.

"I think we should get away from this hole right now." James replied, and the two of us began backing up.

"Hold up, I think I see something moving down there." Steve said as his grip on his FAL seemed to tighten. Before I knew what I was doing, I had grabbed the back of his MHI issue armor, and hauled him back. Not a moment too soon either, as there was the unmistakable sound of a weapon firing, and bullets sailed through the space where Steve's head had been a second before.

"Whoever's down there cease fire!" Dominique yelled, and all our weapons were leveled, despite keeping out of the shooter's line of fire. We were answered by a small cylinder landing at our feet, and we all jumped back. James, Steve, and myself took cover behind the lobby's staircase just barely hearing Dominique yell 'flashbang' before the concussive devise detonated. The three of us were lucky we had cover along with our electronic earplugs, as the ringing in our ears was not as bad as what it had been like when James had shot his grenade launcher into that hole.

I broke cover and leveled Gungnir at the hole. I saw that Vampire dragging Dominique's info expert Shannon behind the receptionist desk. It looked like she had taken the worst of the concussive effects. Jon who was Dominique's marksman, and Chris broke cover around another staircase. It had only been several seconds since the flashbang detonated, and a moment later, several men emerged from the hole. Men dressed in red body armor, with a gold Satanic cross painted on the front.

I only heard the beginning of a question from either Jon or Chris wondering who these guys were, before I sighted on the nearest cultist and pulled Gungnir's trigger. A burst of gunfire from my custom G3, hit my target in the upper chest and neck, and he fell to the ground. James fired his Benelli a second later, and the cultist on the right had his chest blown open due to James' love of Frag-12 explosive shells. The third cultist had leveled his rifle by then, but he never got a single shot off, as someone put several rounds through his head from the floor above us.

"Not these guys again." I heard Clare growl into our com.

"Who are these guys!?" Steve asked, as he fired his FAL and hit another emerging cultist in the side of his head.

"Satanic cultists." James replied, as he blasted another cultists head off their shoulder. "Our team had a run in with these guys a few months back. Their weapons are all stolen military, which explains how they got their hands on the C-4."

"Well what the hell are they doing here!?" Chris asked as more red armored cultists began to climb out of the hole.

"Probably organized this whole thing!" I growled, as I reloaded Gungnir. "Their leader is a nutcase!"

"Aren't they all!?" I heard Odette ask from somewhere I couldn't see.

"Well this one's a real problem. The guy is trying to get his hands on the power of the Four Horsemen!" Clare responded from the second floor.

"Is she serious?" Steve asked his eyes wide with incredulity.

"Yeah very serious. The guy already killed the Horseman of War, and before you ask yes he did." I replied, before speaking into my com.

"Grandpa there's a serious problem down here."

"What's going on?" My grandpa asked in his gruff Irish accent. "More Zombies?"

"No. We're engaged with the cultists we fought a couple months ago!"

The next voice I heard wasn't my grandpa, but Pat's voice in my com. "Alex I'm coming down."

"Alright Pat, but hurry up!" I replied.

Another 30 round mag clicked empty, and several things happened at once when I went to reload. A cultist had his weapon leveled and I rolled to my left to avoid the gunfire, which sent my magazine clattering across the floor to my right. I landed on my left side, and the cultist followed me with his rifle, but far too slowly. Before I knew it, my Beretta was in my hand, and I put three rounds into the cultist. One in each of their eyes, and a third dead center in the forehead.

More cultists had come out from the hole, but they didn't last too long. They were mowed down by three men heading down the stairs. Two of them had automatic M4's, while the third had a semi-automatic M1 Grand. Before I had time for my shock to register, Dominique's voice rang out through my com.

"Shannon burn them!"

But it wasn't Shannon that came emerged with Boudica, but the sword wielding Vampire. He made his way to the entrance, and pressed a small red button on the Warhammer's underbarrel. The darkened hospital lit up with orange light, as to my team's surprise Boudica's built in flamethrower, emptied into the 10 foot hole, and we heard the high-pitched yet muffled screams of the burning cultists. A moment later the flames died out, either because that Vampire took his finger off the button, or Boudica ran out of juice.

"It's clear." He said plainly flicking Boudica's safety back on, before heading back to behind the reception desk, and helping Shannon to her feet. She really did get the worst of the concussive blast, as she looked pale, her eyes were glassy and slightly watery, and her legs were shaking slightly.

John helped my back to my feet, and handed me the magazine I had lost when the cultist shot me. "You alright?" He asked.

"I've been shot at before by these nutcases." I replied.

"Not what I asked."

"Our home is under attack by Satanic nut cases, a Voodoo Priestess and fucking Zombies. No John I'm not alright, but we gotta put a stop to this so I have to put how freaked out I am to the side until we finish this." I replied.

"If we want to finish this, we should follow this tunnel." The Vampire said while still holding Boudica in his left hand.

"Then let's finish it." Em said as she landed gracefully next to the Marshall twins, having leapt down from the second floor.

"So who'se going down?" Odette asked.

"I am." I said immediately.

"Not without me you aren't." I heard Clare say as she walked up to us.

"I'm going too." James replied.

"So am I." That was Pat.

I felt John place his hand on my shoulder. "I don't bring you back in one piece, mom is on my ass forever."

I couldn't help the smile that formed. "Thom? What about you?"

My little brother loaded another clip into his rifle smirking. "Well you did say I was never more than two inches from your side during this whole thing right?

"Smartass." I scoffed.

"It must run in the family." Clare said as nudged my arm with her elbow.

I nodded a bid, before turning to Dominique. "Can you seal this hole behind us. We don't want anything or anyone else getting through."

"Nothing's getting past us." She said.

"Humvees are coming back. They're two minutes away." Nate said, as he loaded another magazine into his model of Red Death.

"How do you know that?" I asked, before he tapped his ear indicating his enhanced hearing.

"Alright then. If that's settled, let's finish this." I said slinging Gungnir, and taking out my Spas. I cycled the action before jumping into the hole. It smelled horrible, but I chalked that up to the burned bodies of the cultists that met their end from Boudica's flamethrower. Thom came next, he had two Siggs leveled. Pat and John were next, followed by Clare. John took point his tactical light on. I was right behind him, followed by Thom, then Clare, and finally Pat. We followed the tunnel for a while, and I realized after a few minutes that it was part of Syracuse's sewer line.

"And here I thought the term 'being in the shit' was a figure of speech." I groaned as we continued to make our way forward. To our surprise we didn't encounter any more hostiles. Zombies or cultists.

"I think we have an exit." John said, and sure enough I saw a light in the top of the sewer line. Several seconds later, the five of us were looking through another hole 10 feet in diameter much like the one that was blasted through the hospital floor.

"These guys ever hear of using a front door?" Thom asked in a whisper as we ducked out of sight due to a red armored cultist passing by the hole.

"I think they're settling in for the long haul." Pat whispered, as he peered through the hole. "Looks like City Hall."

"So what's the- Alex!" John hissed, and tried to pull me back but I was already out of the hole, my Kukiri in my left hand. I snuck up behind the cultist that had passed the large hole, and stabbed him in the neck. He dropped, and I grabbed a knife that was strapped across his chest. It was a KA-BAR, and I threw it with as much force as I could at another man dressed in red who made his way down the stairs. It hit him dead center in the forehead, and he crumpled to the floor. Another cultist made their way down the stairs, and had just registered his dead teammate when my Kukiri buried itself into the center of his face. A door to my right opened, and a fourth man in red slowly leveled his rifle. I already had my combat hatchet in my right hand, and hooked it around one of his ankles. I ripped the hatchet forward as hard as I could, and the cultist landed flat on his back, before I split his face with the razor sharp edge of the hatchet. A fifth stopped at the top step leading up the stairs, but he just stood there. I wondered for a split second what he was going to do, before he toppled over and slid down the stairs. I turned my head and saw Clare with her arm outstretched. She had hit this guy with one of her throwing knives.

"It was all under control." I said in a low voice, as I retrieved my Kukiri.

"That's what it looked like." She responded in the same low voice, as she placed the knife in its small sheath on her left sleeve.

"You two scare me sometimes." Pat said checking to see if the second floor was clear. And apparently it was, as he waved us forward. We continued making our way up, silently taking out any cultist we encountered. Finally we arrived at the fourth and top floor. Making our way down the hallway, we were surprised to find no opposition as we stacked up at the doors to the mayor's office. Right before we were about to breach, I heard voices from the other side of the wooden doors.

"The hunters and the agents will not last the night." A woman was saying in a deep voice, and her accent sounded like she was from maybe Jamaca or Barbados.

"Good. Soon the last piece of the puzzle will be mine. I'll have taken care of the only people who can stand up to me, and I will be able to open the gate." I recognised that voice. It was the cultist leader. The one Pat had shot in the kneecaps.

I nudged Thom, and signaled that he and I were going to breach the doors. The other three nodded, and pat held up three fingers.

"After they are dead, I have a surprise for you." The woman's voice said, and my stomach churned when I realised she was flirting with this madman.

Two fingers.

"What sort of surprise?" The cult leader asked.

One finger.

I kicked the doors as hard as I could, and they flew back. I entered through the doorway my Spas leveled. "Surprise motherfucker!" I yelled, before Thom entered and opened fire with his Siggs at the woman who was unmistakably the Voodoo Priestess. She twitched and jerked as the .45 caliber rounds hit her, and she fell back through the large glass window to the street below.

The cultist leader gave an anguished cry, and leveled a pistol at Thom. I recognised it as War's Browning 9mm, and fired my Spas. The man's arm came off at the shoulder, and there was a blinding flash of white light, before he vanished.

"That's twice." I growled out. "Next time you're mine.


	24. Chapter 24 Extra innings

Chapter 24. Extra innings

"That's twice." I growled out. "Next time you're mine."

"Check it out." Thom said as he leaned out the window looking at the corpse of the priestess. "Zombies are gone."

Sure enough, as I looked down from the shattered window at the priestess' corpse, she was surrounded by undead husks that had seemingly collapsed. I remembered Steve telling me about a situation just like this happening in Philadelphia. This was right before I had been attacked by that Vampire. Now that aside, when a Voodoo priestess is killed, anything under their control is released. Now since the Zombies were brought back from the dead and placed under magical control, the second that Thom killed the priestess, her power vanished, and the corpses became harmless once again.

"Nice shooting baby brother." I heard John say, and a wide smile break out over Thom's face.

"Patrick Martin to all Hunter and MCB teams. Priestess is KIA. Repeat, priestess is KIA." I smiled in relief, and sank into the wheeled plush chair behind the Mayor's desk. The city was safe, we could all get some sleep, and I could plan another (and a more traditional) date night with Clare. Things could go back to as normal as life could get for a Hunter. And then Earl Harbinger dropped a bomb on us.

"It's not over yet." Earl growled into our comms. "There are still Zombies crawling all over the city."

Everyone shared a look of incredulity at Earl's words, and Pat spoke back into his comm again. "Earl that's not possible. We killed the Priestess, and the Zombies dropped. We saw it happen!"

"Well there's another one in the city Martin. I see where you are, and I'd say that only a third of the Zombies are gone." Earl's voice cracked.

I slumped into the chair, my body was numb, my blood was ice, and my head was spinning. What Earl had said meant that there were three Priestess. Three of them. On top of that there were the cultists… "Oh shit."

Everyone looked at me when I said that. "We still have the cultists in this city on top of the Zombies to worry about."

"Oh son of a fuck!" I heart Pat curse, and I could tell he was berating himself internally for having forgotten that. "Earl, Locke. I got bad news on top of the additional Priestess. There are armed Satanic cultists in the city. The same ones whose leader is after the power of the Horsemen."

"Where are they located Mr. Martin?" Locke's voice cracked over the line, and I could tell that there was ice in his voice.

"We engaged them within Upstate University Hospital. The sons of bitches blasted a large ten foot hole in the floor, and are using the sewer lines to get to any locations in the city undetected."

"Understood Mr. Martin. What about their leader, have you spotted him?"

"Yeah." I interjected. "He got away, but he's not in one piece. I shot his right arm off at the shoulder."

"Nice shooting kid." I heard Earl's commendation, and smiled despite how numb I felt.

"Agreed, now we need to find out where these last two-SHIT!" We all winced as Agent Locke exclaimed.

"Locke, what the hell just happened!?" Pat asked.

"The middle of the street just-" His comm cut off when we heard gunfire. "DAMNIT! TORRES SUPPRESSING FIRE!"

"Locke! What the hell is going on!?"

"The street just blew apart, and cultists started pouring out! DAMNIT MEDIC TORRES IS DOWN!"

John immediately contacted his Captain. "Captain Stone, what's Hammer's status!?"

"Civilian's from the hospital have all been evacuated. We have two Humvees available Seargent, what's the matter?"

"Wait one sir. Agent Locke, what is your location?" John spoke into the comm.

Locke's voice was slightly panicked when he answered my older brother. "Downtown, north end! There's a weapon shop called _Intimidator's Armory_ about twenty feet behind us!"

"We need pick-up at city hall, and immediate transport to _Intimidator Armory_. How copy Captain?" John spoke into his comm once again.

"Confirmed Sergeant. We're on our way. One Humvee away, one is heading towards the gun store. ETA five mikes." Stone replied.

"Nothing takes five mikes sir."

"Confirmed Sergeant. Out."

I felt someone grab my upper right arm, and I saw Pat's face. He looked just as scared and drained as I was, as he helped me up to my feet. I almost lost my balance, as he gave my shoulder a reassuring slap. "Come on man, we can do this. We got plenty of ammo left, which means we can still fight right? We can still kick ass."

I nodded, and cycled the action in my Spas. "It's still game time?"

"It's just gone into extra innings is all."

"Then let's go kick some ass!" I said giving his shoulder a slap in return. Although I couldn't ignore the churning in my stomach. I knew what I had signed up for when I completed the four month training down in Cazador, but in all honesty I just wanted this night to be over. I was exhausted, and scared. Not scarred like one gets in a horror film when the undead killer appears around the corner, and there is that sharp note that emphasizes the jump scare scene. No it was more and worse. It was nightmarish fear. I thought we ended the attack when we killed the Voodoo Priestess, and sent the cult leader packing sans one arm. But then two more Priestess were revealed, and Zombies were still swarming Syracuse which was in great danger of being overrun. I was scared of losing my home, my friends, my family, and my girlfriend.

" _When you don't know what to do when a situation's really hit the fan, that's when things go from bad to worse, and it's then you make a mistake that will more often than not get you or a member of your team killed. When you're in a situation like this, you need to know how to channel what your feeling to fuel you past the situation that's gone up shit creek. You think of everything you stand to lose, stare the situation in the face, put your gun down its throat and pull the trigger."_

I took a deep breath as I remembered Earl Harbinger's words from one of his lecture classes. He was right, like the experienced hunters almost always are. Yes there are a few exceptions to every case, but Earl was in this case right about what to do in situations like this.

Hammer's last Humvee pulled up to the steps of the town hall. One driver, and one gunner. After slinging my Spas into its scabbard, I placed my hand back on Gungnir, and gripped it tight as I slid in next to my little brother.

"You okay?" Thom asked.

"No." I replied. "You?"

"Not really. How do you do this?"

"The pay's good, the scenery changes, and they let us use explosives." In all this, despite how scared I was, I was still able to be my smartass self and crack a joke. Not a split second after we all piled in, our driver put his foot to the pedal. Several moments passed before we heard the muffled yet unmistakable sound of gunfire. I loaded a 50 round drum mag, and racked Gungnir's charging handle back, as Thom loaded a fresh clip into his M1.

"You're a good shot with that thing, but you're gonna need an upgrade when you join MHI."

Thom looked at me like a kid who's parents had said they were going to Disney World. "Wait what did you say?"

"You heard me. But you're still not two inches from my side until this whole thing is over." I said as the gunfire grew louder. I glanced out the window, and saw that we were only two streets away from Locke's position.

"Gunner, hostiles are in red body armor!" Pat yelled to the Ranger operating the mounted .50 cal on the Humvees roof. I gave no notice of weather or not he had confirmed what was said, as I loaded a 40mm explosive shell into Gungnir's launcher. James had slung his Benelli, and loaded to my surprise a 100 round saddle drum magazine into his rifle. It looked like the magazines I used when I had my old XM8, and somehow I found that I really missed using that rifle. I guess my love of drum magazines had affected the team, and my theory was proven correct when Pat loaded an identical drum into his own M4. Both men racked the charging handles back on their rifles, as _Intimidator's Armory_ came into sight.

The scene from what I could see out the window was a mess. A dark SUV like the ones our team uses, was on its roof, with flames licking at the inside of the vehicle where the windows had been shattered by some sort of explosion. The other two SUVs were parked end to end slightly blocking off the street, and there were the MCB Agents who were dressed for war crouched behind them. Occasionally one popped up to fire those FF2000 rifles issued to the MCB. Then I saw Hammer squad's other Humvee. It was parked a few feet behind the Agents, and the gunner had opened up. Our Humvee did a sharp break, and the driver maneuvered the large military vehicle so that both front bumpers were touching. We filed out of the Humvee the second the mumpers touched, and our gunner opened up. A few members of our team including Captain Stone had taken up positions on either side of both Humvees, and Isabelle was attending to an MCB Agent who looked like he was in pretty bad shape.

"This Agent Torres!?" Pat asked our medic over the gunfire, as she tried to stabilize the bleeding in the Agent's shoulder.

Isabelle nodded. "Yeah, he took a few rounds to the shoulder and his upper left arm! I got the rounds out, but I can't stop the bleeding!" We all ducked lower to the ground, as bullets bounced off the Humvees hood.

"Where the hell is Connor!?" Pat asked as he didn't see our machine gunner.

"Him and Marcus went back to our SUVs! Connor said he wanted to get his hands on a little more firepower!"

"The MG3!?"

"Yeah and I'll be happy when he gets back! For now put pressure right here!" Pat clamped his hands down on Agent Torres' left shoulder, causing the injured man to groan loudly, as Isabelle started making a tourniquet

"Where's dad and Dimitri!?" I asked, and Isabelle jerked her thumb over her shoulder to the building on the left side of the street.

"On the roof!" Not a second after she said that, two loud _CRACKs_ signalling rifle fire came from the roof of the building Isabelle had pointed to.

We all ducked again, as more bullets hit the Humvees hood again. "Alright that's it! We're gonna flank these SOBs. John, stay here with Isabelle. Alex, Clare, Thom go to the right. James, you're with me going left. We'll hit them in the intersection!" We all nodded at Pat's order, and the three of us headed to the right side of the street, and quickly ducked into an alleyway.

I was on point, Thom behind me, and Clare watching our backs. The gunfire was slightly muffled, as the surrounding buildings were so close together. We clambered over a chain link fence that divided the alleyway, and I peered around the corner, tightly gripping Gungnir. My stomach gave a sharp jolt of fear when I saw red body armor not two inches from my face, but I couldn't believe my luck when I saw that his back was facing me.

"They are right around the corner." I half whispered, half mouthed to Clare and Thom.

"What do we do?" Clare asked in the same tone.

"I'll take this guy out. Clare, Thom, the second I do that, fire and move to the other side of the street to get a better position." I replied, as I flicked the switch that made Gungnir's side mounted bayonets spring out. I slowly exhaled, before rounding the corner. The cultist still had his back turned to me, which proved to be the last mistake he'd ever make. I buried both 7 inch blades into his back, and squeezed Gungnir's trigger. My weapons discharge drowned out the cultists scream, but it did draw the attention of his friends. 8 cultists had their weapons leveled at me, but they all twitched and jerked, as Clare and Thom opened up on them as they moved across the street.

"Contact! Right sid-" A cultist closer to the large 10 foot hole called out, before a burst of gunfire cut him off, and he toppled to the ground.

"What was that? I didn't quite hear you." I said smirking, as I saw James and Pat on the far left close to the intersection. I then tapped Gungnir's launcher, and motioned to James. He nodded in understanding, and took out his M32 launcher.

"Locke brace yourself, there's about to be a pretty large explosion." Pat spoke into the comm channel. I braced my customized G3 against my shoulder, and wrapped my left hand around the launcher, as Pat held his hand up and counted down from 3 to 1. I squeezed the launchers trigger when Pat's index finger curled into his fist, and James mirrored me at the exact same time. Both launchers discharged with the same characteristic _THUNK_! The two 40mm shells sailed into the air, and into the hole, creating two simultaneous explosions.

I jerked my head at Clare and Thom, motioning for us to move up and make sure the hole was clear. The five of us moved in, guns pointed into the large 10 foot hole. A second later we were joined by Agent Locke, who unlike the other heavily armed Agents was carrying a Mk18 M4 CQBR with a reflex sight. The Mark 18 is the M4's PDW variant with a 10.3 inch barrel, capable of holding either a 20 or a 30 round drop STANAG magazine. The weapon was designed by Colt Defense in the last year of the 90's, and put into production in 2000. This particular carbine variant is the modern version of the Colt Commando short-barrel rifles that were in use in the late 60's and early 70's. The team had been slowly converting me into a gun nut over the past couple of months, so I have a little more knowledge about firearms.

"Thanks for the save." Locke said, not taking his eyes off the hole.

"I think that's three you owe us now." Clare said with a hint of a smile in her voice.

If Locke was going to respond, he never got the chance. A large explosion about 30 feet away nearly knocked us off our feet. When we had enough sense to register what had happened, a small cylinder clattered to the ground at my foot. My eyes widened, as the cylinder spun to a stop very slowly. I grabbed the flashbang, knowing I was moving blindingly fast to 4 other people, and tossed it back to where the explosion had come from. The concussion grenade slowly sailed through the air, and detonated a few inches over the head of a red armored cultist who was emerging from the hole they had just created. His eyes rolled up, and he gave a slight pained scream before dropping back into the 10 foot hole.

"New contacts!" Locke yelled, and our rifles all snapped up at the hole as cultists who hadn't been affected by the flashbang began pouring out.

Nobody got the chance to open fire, as Connor's voice cracked over our comms. "Hold your fire guys, I got this."

"Connor where the hell are you!?" Pat yelled into his comm.

Our question was answered when Earl Harbinger's Hind sailed over our heads, moving to the end of the street. The Russian attack helicopter turned, and its side door slid open. Connor was standing in the entrance with his monstrous MG3 turret in his hands. The modern version of the German MG42 opened up, and the cultists weren't just mowed down, they were shredded in a matter of seconds. "Damn I love this thing!" Connor yelled down to us, as Pat flipped him off. Connor returned the gesture smiling.

The Hind sailed over us again, and touched down, at the opposite intersection. All of us, Rangers, Hunters, and Agents made our way towards the helicopter just in time to see Isabelle carry wounded Agent Torres into _Intimidator's_ being helped to my surprise by Brian.

Earl's team minus Julie, made their way inside the gun store, followed by my team and Captain Stone. The other Rangers and the Agents who hadn't been wounded set up a security perimeter outside the shop.

"Put him on the counter." Brian said, and he and Isabelle lifted Agent Torres onto the glass pistol display counter.

"Medic get your kit and get in here." Captain stone ordered one of the Rangers as he stuck his head out of the shop's door.

A moment later two other Rangers made their way into the shop, and began helping Isabelle attend to Agent Torres. As Agent Locke started talking to Earl about the situation, I made my way over to Brian.

"Don't mean to sound ungrateful, but what are you doing here man?" I asked.

"I live in the flat above the store. That last explosion woke me up." Brian replied, and I did my best not to laugh. "What?"

"You're telling me that you slept through a Zombie apocalypse?"

"I thought it was just some sort of fucked up dream I was having. Are there still Zombies out there?"

I nodded. "Yeah and it looks like we're gonna have to go back out there soon."

"Need some help?"

"You offering?"

"Hell yeah I'm offering."

I was about to respond, when every Hunter and Agent's attention was drawn to the comm channel. "Marshal twins to all Hunters and Agents. Second Voodoo Priestess is down. I say again, second Priestess is down."

Seconds later, Dominique's voice came over the comm line. "Make that three. All Priestess' are down."

Seconds after that, an European accented voice rang in our ears. "This is Marius Selene. I've found where these cultists have set up, and have promptly eliminated them.

There was a collective sigh of relief from my team as we heard what had just happened. The cultists had been dealt with, and the Priestess' were dead. With them gone, the power they had over the Zombies vanished, and they were harmless once more. My home was saved, my friends and family were unharmed. It was over.


	25. Chapter 25 Family that hunts together

Chapter 25. The family that hunts together

My eyes snapped open, as someone shook me awake. I realized that to my embarrassment, that I'd fallen asleep in the back seat of one of our team's SUVs. I looked up to find my older brother while smiling, looked just as tired as I felt at the moment. Unloading our gear took longer than it felt when we made our way into the armory. But that was also due to the fact that there were 3 Hunter teams in our armory. Dominique's team, Earl Harbinger's, as well as mine. I didn't place my Baretta in my locker, as I always had that gun at my side at all times. I made my way towards the barracks, when my mom caught me in one of those 'thank god you're okay' hugs. It was a while before she let go, but I didn't really care. I almost passed out when I hit collapsed onto my bed, but I heard Clare's voice a second later.

"Hey move over you big lug." I was so surprised she was there, I almost fell off my bed. And despite her looking as exhausted as everyone else, she was still as beautiful as ever. I smiled slightly, and scooted over to make room for her.

"So much for that first date huh?" I asked with a tired grin, as she settled in next to me.

"Actually as far as first dates go, this one wasn't so bad. You really know how to show a girl a good time." I blushed at her response as she flicked the safety on her USP compact on, and slid it under her pillow, and I did the same with my Beretta. We were asleep within a matter of seconds.

My eyes snapped open to complete and total blackness. I couldn't tell whether I was awake or if I was dreaming. I reached for my Beretta, but it wasn't there. _Yeah. I'm dreaming alright._ I stood up slowly, thinking that any movement could send me tumbling endlessly down through this black void. Although I was surprised to find that the … Well the air under my feet was solid. I took a few steps forward, before a familiar voice made me wheel around.

"Alex?" I was surprised to see Clare was here. Wherever _here_ was.

"Clare? Are you real? Or am I just imagining you?" I asked, and she rolled her eyes.

"If you were imagining me, don't you think my chest would be bigger?" She retorted.

I facepalmed, and sighed. "There's no safe way to answer that?"

"Damn straight." She said with a victorious smirk. "So where are we? Why are we here?"

"That is very simple I brought you here." A voice that seemingly came from all around us said.

We looked all around to see where the voice had come from, and we were answered by the sound of approaching footsteps. A moment later someone came into view. He had on a very expensive suit, carried a cane in his left hand, and had a large ring on his left hand. But his face was probably the most shocking feature. His hair was black, oily, and slicked back. His face was gaunt, his skin was very pale and stretched tight, and his eyes were sunken in their sockets. Almost like a skeleton. "I've been meaning to speak with you for quite some time."

Both of us somehow had our sidearms in our hands, and safeties snapped off. Yet the newcomer just smiled. "There will not be any need for those." His voice was still gentle, but it had a commanding tone to it.

"Well you never answered our question." I told the newcomer, not taking my gun off of him.

"Ah yes how rude of me." He said with a small shake of his head. "I am the last one needed. The final piece of the puzzle needed to be bound to open the cage."

I had heard those words before, just hours before. That psychotic cult leader had said them, which made me think back several months back to what Locke had said about him.

" _We believe this man is attempting to bind the Four Horsemen."_

"You're the Fourth Horseman." I said lowering my Beretta. "You're Death."

The corner of Death's mouth turned up in the slightest ghost of a smile, and he gave us a slight nod. "Correct Alex. Now we do not have much time to speak, so I will have to make this quick."

Death gestured with his left hand, the one that held the cane, and the blackness all around of us dissolved until we were floating above a large city. One I recognised from the dreams I had when I first became a Hunter. I looked down, and saw that hundreds maybe thousands of Hunters and MCB Agents firing their weapons at the hordes of Zombies, and like the last time I had this dream from the view of that helicopter, the Hunters and Agents were managing to push the Zombies back.

I looked over to Death. "You were the one who gave me those dreams?" Death nodded once again.

"This is inevitable. It cannot change. The attack will happen and hundreds will die. Innocents, Agents, Hunters. Nobody will be safe from this." Death said to the two of us, and for a moment it seemed like he was actually happy about that.

"If this can't be stopped, why show us then?" Clare asked the Horseman, who rested his right hand on top of his left.

"I'm telling you this, because it is there that I will be summoned and bound to that madman. He will take my ring hand have the final piece of what he needs to open the Devil's Cage."

"But you said it's inevitable." I said, and Death nodded again. "So if you being bound is inevitable, why did you give me these dreams? What made the dream change from me being blown into pieces, to getting off that roof and into that elevator shaft."

The city dissolved once again, and came back into focus to where I could see me helping Clare up from over the edge of that building that had somehow had its upper floors sliced off by something. Moments later our helicopter pulled back being set upon by the 3 Gargoyles I saw the last time I had the dream. We were both back on our feet, and the undead horde was upon us.

"You're referring to this correct?" The Horseman asked. "You were supposed to die up there on that roof, yet when I learned of what was planned for me, I decided to alter your fate."

"But why Alex?" Clare asked.

"What do you mean Clare?" Death asked unblinkingly.

"You know damn well what I mean!" She yelled at the Horseman. I saw tears beginning to form in her eyes.

If I thought Death was going to raise his voice, it surprised the hell out of me when he raised his right hand, and wagged his long pale index finger tutting softly. "If I had allowed Alex to die on that roof, the two of you would not be together as is the case now. I changed Alex's fate the day I found out what was going to happen, as I knew it was your team that was going to be sent after the man who wanted my power."

It was quiet for several minutes after Death spoke, and that gave me time to think. So originally I was supposed to die on the roof whenever this attack took place. But Death for whatever reason, decided to change change my fate and allow me to survive.

"Well if you decided that I should survive." I began slowly. "Does that mean you have something else planned for me?"

Death nodded once more. "Indeed I do Alex." He slowly took the ring off of his left hand. He slowly strode forward, and took my left hand in his right before placing his ring in my palm. "When I am summoned, and I will be summoned. I will not have this. I will not give him the power he desires. However, this ring will still come to him. You will be the one to … Shall we say deliver it."

"But that means that that lunatic will still get his hands on the ring, and summon the Devil!" Clare yelled, but Death simply smiled.

"Not entirely." Death said very calmly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The two of us asked as Death picked that particular moment to be cryptic.

"I cannot say too much about the future as some things can change once they are revealed. The future is no set in stone, and too much information can sometimes be a bad thing." Death explained in a calm tone.

"Can you tell us at least where and possibly when this attack takes place?" I asked, and the Horseman paused for a moment.

"Hmmm perhaps a little more information will not hurt, but I cannot tell you. However I can show you." The scene dissolved once more, and we were above the city once more. Clare and I looked around once again, and it all became so clear why I saw thousands of Hunters and Agents within the city. Why Death was going to be summoned during this event, he needed a massive amount of lives lost to be summoned. And New York City was the perfect place to do it.

"You now know where." Death said snapping us out of our surprised shock.

"What about the 'when'?" Clare asked.

Death shook his head. "Remember what I said about too much information about the future."

I sighed softly. "Can we at least get a hint then?"

"Within the next six months, and that is a very big hint. Now go and tell Earl about this, as the two of you are about to wake up." Death and the cityscape of New York dissolved in a blinding white light, as my eyes snapped open again.

I was back in my room in the barracks of MHIs Syracuse compound. I was lying in my bed, and Clare was lying next to me, with her right arm draped over my chest. It was a moment before Clare's eyes snapped open, and she raised herself onto her left arm.

"How'd you sleep?" I asked, and my question was answered as her right palm lightly smacked the center of my forehead.

"You know exactly how I slept." She chided gently. "We had the same dream. Check out what's in your left hand."

I looked down at my left hand and slowly opened it. Sure enough, Death's ring was in the center of my palm. So that wasn't just another messed up dream, we had really been in contact with the Fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse. We heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and our hands plunged under our pillows, and we drew our sidearms snapping the safeties off. Although it was a slight surprise when I had Clare's compact USP, and Clare had my Beretta.

"Easy kids." My grandpa said smiling. "You two have been out for a while, I was coming to wake you up."

We flicked the safeties on our sidearms back on, and handed them back to one another sharing a look.

"Actually grandpa." I began. "There's something we need to talk to you about. Is Earl still here?"

"Yeah he is." Grandpa responded. "He's on the second floor with the rest of his team. I'll meet you up there."

The two of us stretched, as we got out of bed. I was sore in places I didn't think I had, and I'm sure that Clare felt the same way. We secured our sidearms to our belts, and made our way to the second floor of the compound. We found Earl talking to my dad and my little brother Thom when we got to the second level. My guess was Earl was talking about recruitment to the two, and somehow I knew that was going to happen as I mentioned to Thom that he should join MHI due to how well he handled himself last night. I didn't expect dad to want to join, but I guess something like that was inevitable. Dad had a good service run with the US Army Rangers, and had even made it to the rank of Captain. But his term of service ended when I was born, and the DOD said he couldn't come out of retirement. But the Department of Defense never said anything about re-enlistment.

"How're ya feelin' kid?" Earl asked as Thom and I high-fived.

"Well you know those dreams I had a few months ago?" I asked, which earned some strange looks from dad and Thom, and a nod from Earl. "Well I had another one, and so did Clare."

I then proceeded to show everyone Death's ring, and Clare and I explained every detail of the dream we had. The inevitable attack on New York City, the allotted time frame, the reason Death had told us all of this. All the while Earl and everyone else was listening intently until we stopped speaking.

"Well that gives us six months." Earl said seemingly accepting this completely. "At least we'll have an advantage going into this whole thing." He had Death's ring in his hands, and was rolling it between his fingers.

"So we just keep hunting and prepare for this whole thing?" Owen asked.

"We got six months to do it Owen." Earl replied, as he handed me back Death's ring. "He trusted you with it kid, so you should hold onto it."

I closed my fingers around the ring, as Earl stood up, before handing two envelopes to my dad and little brother which I knew were there PUFF bounties. "We're heading back down to Cazador today. I'll see you down there hopefully." Earl made his way out of the rec room followed by the rest of his team.

"Well I guess the family that hunts together right?" Clare asked my dad as he opened his envelope, with his eyes widening.

"Are you serious!?" Thom exclaimed, with his eyes bulging as he stared at his PUFF bounty.

"Belle was right. That doesn't get old." I smirked at Clare. "Come on Thom let's see what you got." Thom placed the PUFF check in my hand almost seeming to be in another place. I gave an appreciative whistle as I looked at the $700,600 bounty. "Told you the pay was good."

"You weren't kidding!" Thom said giddily as I handed him back his check. "So you think the bank is open?"

I looked to the large flatscreen at the other end of the room that was showing the news. From what the news anchor was saying, the official story that the MCB no doubt provided was that there was a massive riot, after the Syracuse football team won again, which incited Duke fans. I shrugged as no college football fan especially 'Cuse or Duke would ever riot. However the news anchor said that despite the riot, police had contained the situation, and today should go about as business as usual.

"Come on Thom, I'll take you myself." I said I went to grab my keys.

"Can I ride shotgun?"

"Keep dreaming 'little brother'." Clare said as she headed to the garage.

"But you can drive." I smirked tossing him the keys to my Cobra. I couldn't help but smile as my little brother's eyes lit up like a kid getting exactly what he wanted on Christmas.

Just like everyone else's PUFF check they get when they're first visited by an MHI Hunter, Thom's check cleared without incident. I was driving once again, but I had an idea, and instead of making our way to Brian's gun store, I drove us down to Romano Ford. Of course Thom was confused as to what we were doing here.

"Dude you're not going down to Cazador with dad in that Hummer of his. You're riding down in style." I said smirking.

"But do you really think I can afford one of these? Even with that huge check clearing?" My little brother asked.

"Dude whoever said that you were buying?" I said with a wink. "Consider this a job well done for last night." Thom's eyes got even brighter, and I swear he was about to cry he was so happy. "But this counts as your birthday and this year's Christmas preasent."

It was twenty minutes later, that a black, and dark blue Shelby Cobra pulled into the parking lot after several detours of _Intimidator Armory_. Brian was still behind the counter acting as if nothing had happened.

"Jeez guys, not twenty four hours after what happened, and you're here to buy more guns?" Brian laughed, and he was able to get away with what he just said, as there wasn't anyone else but Clare, Thom, and myself in the store.

"You're really asking that question?" I said with a smirk of my own.

"No I'm not. So who wants what?"

I nudged Thom forward. "Go on bro."

"I could use a good shotgun. You got any suggestions?" Thom asked.

"Sure, what are you in the mood for?" Brian asked.

"Pump sounds good to me."

Brian nodded a few times. "Alright, what are you in the mood for? We have a few Remmington's, Benelli's, I got another Spas like your brother uses minus the paint job."

"Is that a Striker?" Thom asked pointing to the shortest shotgun on the display case.

"Yeah it is. Wanna check it out?" Brian asked.

"Sure." Thom said before Brian handed him the weapon. "Seven round rotating cylinder, fourteen inch barrel length, folded stock, and modified to mount optics. I'll take it." He said laying on the counter.

"Alright." Brian said clearly impressed as Thom assessed the riot control shotgun at first touch. "Anything else?"

"What do you sell for battle rifles? I mean I have a World War Two M1 Grand rifle, but I'm thinking of upgrading."

"You know I think I have just the thing for you. I'll be right back." Brian headed into the back room of the shop, and a moment later came out carrying a sibling of Thoms M1. "This is the Mk.14 EBR. This bad boy has an eighteen inch Badger Ordnance barrel fitted with a Smith Enterprise muzzle break to tame recoil, collapsible stock by Ace Custom, twenty round magazine, SAW-style pistol grip, custom trigger job, and a Trijicon one-to-four power Accupoint scope."

"Damn!" The three of us said at the same time.

"It's priced at four and a half grand too." Brian said frowning slightly.

"Wait what? That doesn't sound right." Thom chimed in with a frown of his own. "That gun looks like it's a custom job. The rifle alone should be worth at least three. Add all the customizations, we're looking at seven maybe eight grand!"

"Normally yeah, except for the fact that it's used."

"What!?" I asked. "What's wrong with it!?"

"Not a damn thing, the guy who ordered it said he didn't like the recoil and returned it after running one mag through it." Brian explained.

"Just one mag? What was he using?" Thom asked.

"Guys a pussy. He ran a real light load through it. Hundred-ten grain Hornady if I remember."

"That guy is a pussy." Thom agreed.

"Thing is though, guy also had a custom FAL rifle built, and did the same thing. Ran the same load through that gun, and proceeded to return it after waiting over a year for that gun to be built."

"Well just out of curiosity, where did he order that FAL from?" I asked as I had a feeling that was the very same FAL used by Steeve Cooper.

"Some place in Philly called On-Point." Brian said, confirming my thought.

"I'll take it." Thom said.

"You got it. Anything else?"

"Um yeah. I'm gonna need some ammo."

"Not a problem. Want anything special?" Brian asked.

"Not for the EBR, but can I get regular, and breacher for the Striker?" Thom responded.

"Yeah man no sweat."

"Oh and one more thing." Thom said before Brian went to retrieve the ammo from the back of the store.

"Sure what is it?" He asked.

"Do you sell quadrangle buckshot?" Thom asked.

Brian scoffed. "Do I sell- One minute."

A moment later, he was carrying several boxes of ammunition, and a long rectangular gun case. "Alex man almost forgot to give this to you."

I furrowed my brow and tilted my head slightly. "What is it?" I asked.

"Trust me and open it." He said with a grin on his face.

The three of us crowded around the gun case, and I undid the clasps, and opened the case. I swear my jaw hit the glass display case, when I saw there was a matte black painted H&K XM8 with a drum magazine and the words MK. II painted in silver on the side.


	26. Chapter 26 Never enough firepower

Chapter 26. Never enough firepower

The bell that signaled someone had entered Brian's store jingled, and I nearly jumped when dad and John walked in. Now if I thought that was a surprise, I swore my brain shut down when my mom and little sister walked in. Apparently after getting his Puff check from Earl, John had told Katie all about what had happened last night (much to mom's objection) and she had fallen in love with the concept of hunting Monsters and shooting guns for a living. I had a feeling that all of us were going to have to talk to her about this, and attempt to convince her otherwise. That later proved to be harder than we thought, but I'll get into detail about that later. Although John did drop a bombshell on us when he said that he left the service. But I guess what Clare said earlier really did hold true. The family that hunts together.

Now my dad whenever he shops for certain things, prefers to take his time until he finds _exactly_ what he's looking for. John takes after my dad a bit, but he's also an impulse buyer who knows exactly what he wants. And in this case he started out by pointing out two highly customised 1911 sidearms.

"Nice choice." Brian began. "If you've ever seen the Punisher film made in 2004, you'll know that these are the exact same handguns. Thread on compensators, Novak night sights, the extended mags are by Smith and Alexander, you got combat hammers and triggers, Kings Gun Works extended the slide stop and releases, and there are Ed Brown Memory Grove beavertail grip safeties and front cocking serrations."

"What are those doing here?" Dad asked, and John chuckled.

"I ordered them dad. Things were a pain in the neck to pay for, but they're gonna get put to good use now."

"Well those customizations might pay for themselves now that you've decided to take Earl's offer up." I replied.

John and I high-fived, and after that he bought a Mossberg pump-action shotgun, and surprised me again when he decided to go with an H&K 417 rifle (I asked him why later, and he said that the M4 would remind him too much of being a soldier, and since he wasn't one anymore, it was time to pick a new weapon). Now remember when I said I didn't know weather or not the 417 came in an assault rifle platform? Well now I know, and I felt the hot rush of embarrassment wash over me when I remembered that. John also wanted an under mounted grip, collapsible bi-pod, and adjustable sights, so that the rifle could function between a conventional assault rifle, and a DMR.

Dad was still having trouble choosing a weapon, so mom made all of us look at her in shock when she chose for him. "The Crusader Broadsword. The one with the eighteen inch barrel, Crusader enhanced trigger, Odin Works handguard, BattleComp compensator, and the Magpul CTR stock. He'll also take the adjustable sights like John's."

Every male in the store was looking at my mom as if for the first time. Nobody said a thing for several minutes, prompting my mom to explain again. "I know my way around guns, because I used to be in the IRA."

"The IRA?" John asked with his eyes wide.

"Yes sweetheart, I was fighting for Irish independance. Now close your mouth before insects fly into it."

"Dude your mom's a badass." Brian whispered so my mom wouldn't hear, and I nodded in agreement.

After the shock of mom's revelation wore off, John bought additional ammo for his guns, and dad purchased a second 1911. A custom officer's model by Les Baer, and ammunition of his own. Mom decided that if anything should happen while dad, John, and Thom were away, she'd want a home defense weapon just in case anything like last night happened within the next four months. Clare and I said that while they were gone, we'd stay with her, but she countered that we would inevitably get called for another job or two while the other three were down in Cazador. So she purchased a H&K Glock .45 compact she could fit into her purse, and carefully conceal anywhere.

"Want anything else?" Brian asked us.

"What about those HK 45's?" Clare asked.

"Nice, I've been meaning to sell these for a while. I was gonna buy them myself if nobody took them." He said laying the pair down on the display case. "Now these are HK 45 tacticals. They have an extended threaded barrel to mount a suppressor, and high profile front and rear sights."

"How much are they?"

"The pair was priced orrignially at thirty two twenty four. But these guys have been sitting in this case collecting dust for the past two years, so let's call it fifteen." Brian said.

"Deal." They shook hands, and Clare continued looking after handing me one of her new handguns. Ten minutes later, we walked out of Brian's shop with our new purchases. Clare's included her HK45, an MP5k, and a Kel-Tec KSG shotgun.

I had my XM8 MK II, the other 45 tactical that Clare had given me, an FP6 pump gun also made by Heckler and Koch, and a large Winchester hunting knife. It was around noon when we all got back to the compound, I was happy to see that Steve and his team were still around. He even got a laugh out of what had transpired at _Intimidator_ when I told him the same guy who used to own his FAL did the same thing with Thom's new EBR.

My little brother was really excited to break in his new battle rifle, and I couldn't blame him. I wanted to fire the MK II as well, and I still had the drum mags from my old XM8 in my locker. The indoor shooting range was soon echoing with the sound of gunfire, as Thom, Steve, and myself unloaded into the paper targets that were set up at various lengths along the range. While I loved Gungnir, and my G36, it felt good to feel the XM8 in my hands again. When our mags clicked empty, we reloaded and I had another idea. I hit the safety on the MK II, and brought out my Spas.

"Hey Steve, you wanna try it out?" I asked.

"Hell yes!" He replied, before I gave him the weapon, bringing out my new FP6, and Thom took out his Armsel Striker. 23 shots rang out, as we unloaded our shotguns at a fresh set of paper targets, laughing as we turned them into pulp.

"Jeez it's a freakin' party down here." Connor said as him, Pat, and Scotty joined us at the shooting range.

"You guys wanna join in the fun?" Thom asked, as he loaded a magazine into his full sized Sigg.

"Well don't start without us." I heard Odette say, as she and Clare entered the room followed by John.

9 paper targets dropped down, and everyone loaded their sidearms. Clare and I with our new HK .45's. Scotty let Pat use one of his custom Schofield revolvers. Steve had a full sized Sigg of his own, and Odette flicked the safety off of her Smith and Wesson 4566. Connor had a magazine loaded in his 1911, and John brought out his special ordered Punisher 1911s. At some unseen signal, we all took aim, and opened up on the paper targets. I guess we were all still affected by what happened last night, that we all aimed for the heads of the paper targets down range. Everyone laughed as our mags clicked empty. We all knew that this was how people in our line of work blew off steam. Everyone reloaded, and safeties were flicked on, as we made our way back upstairs.

I found mom and my little sister talking in the rec room. Katie was arguing with mom about why she couldn't become a Hunter like her older brothers and father. Mom's main counter, was that she was too young. And I absolutely agreed. Katie was 13, and there was no way she was anywhere near ready for the training that everyone at MHI went through. Hell I don't think Thom was ready, but he had more than proved himself last night, so I doubt he'll be affected by a whole lot. The exception to that might be the Gut Crawl. However going back to the discussion between my mom and little sister, Katie looked like she was going to go ballistic while mom kept saying 'no' so I decided to intervine.

"Katie, mom's right." I said placing my hand on her shoulder. "You're too young, and hear me out. Everyone whose become a Hunter, is over the age of eighteen. You still have five years to go."

"It's not just that Alex." Mom interjected. "I want her to go to College and try to find something better than going all around the world shooting guns."

"Mom you were in the IRA, I don't think you get to use that line as a counter argument." John said as he joined us.

"That is precisely my point. Look at our family. I was in the IRA, you and your father were soldier's, Alex wanted to pay his own way in but never got the chance, and we knew Thommas wasn't going to go."

"But mom-" Katie started, before dad cut her off.

"She's right Katelyn. You should go to College, and do what everyone else in our family never got the chance to do." He said ruffling her hair.

"Fine, fine you guys win." She said defeated, as Shadow placed her front paws on my little sister's leg. While mom and dad talked about when the three of them would be leaving, I took Katie aside and told her while mom and dad were right about going to College, if she still wanted to be a Hunter I would personally talk to Earl about it.

An hour later, both Katie and myself were laughing hysterically, as THE BEAST's engine roared up the long drive to the compound. Steve had made good on our deal, in that once he got to shoot my Spas, he'd let me drive his GTO. We pulled up into the front of the compound, and started doing doughnuts, for about 30 seconds. I thought taking my little sister for a drive in THE BEAST would be a good way to cheer her up, and it worked.

"I have got to get me one of these!" We said at the same time as I pulled the GTO into the garage and killed the engine. I handed Steve his keys, and we bro hugged before he got into the driver's seat. After licking our faces, Hondo hopped into the back, and Odette took her place in shotgun. I waved, as the Northeast Hunters headed back to Scranton, and got the keys to my Cobra as I promised that I'd drive with my dad and brothers to the state line.

My Cobra roared to life, and soon two Shelby Cobra's, an El Camino, and a Hummer were roaring down the highway. It took two hours to reach the state line, and my Cobra, pulled over to the shoulder. I killed the engine, and walked outside meeting the three hopefully soon to be Hunters. "It should take you two days to reach Cazador. Now you just need to worry about not attracting any police attention. Trust me you do not want to have to explain what you're doing with a small armory in your trunks." I hugged my dad and siblings before they drove off, and I headed back to Syracuse.


	27. Chapter 27 Intermission

Chapter 27. Intermission

Turns out over the next four months, our team was busy as hell with all sorts of jobs. We fished a Naga out of Lake Michigan, we stuck six harpoons into the stubborn bastard in order to beach it, before Pat dumped an entire 100 round drum mag into the damn thing. Week after the Naga, we were in Paris going after a Werewolf. I had wanted to bring in my MK II, but I was a little nervous about history repeating itself as I had lost my first XM8 when we went up against a Werewolf the last time. Cool thing is was we had gotten some backup when a team of French Hunters joined up with us. That damn Werewolf was making a mess of that giant art museum (don't ask me what is, as I can't for the life of me pronounce it correctly). Our team was able to get it out of there, while the French Hunters hosed it down, and sent it crashing into that glass pyramid out in the front courtyard. Two 40mm shells later courtesy of James and I, that glass eyesore was gone. I had expected the French police to be so pissed about that, but they didn't seem to care (we later found out that the cops on the scene had been former Hunters themselves, and had hated that glass eyesore). Cool thing about being in Paris was that Clare and I had a date at the resturaunt on the top of the Eiffel Tower. Moth after Paris, we had deployed to Ottowa Canada as we had a really disturbing call about an entire family of Vampires. Now this one was really disturbing. I don't mean it was a coven of fully grown mature Vampires. No, this was a family of four: mom and dad, and four kids. _Kids!_ Yeah children had been turned into Vampires, and nobody wanted to have to be the one to pull the trigger, but in the end, James had placed C4 around every corner in the house and looked away when he pressed the detonation switch. Yeah, nobody slept well after that for the next couple of weeks.

During the time Clare and I weren't out hunting or out to dinner, we spent a lot of time back at my parents place. Mom and Katie really took a liking to Clare which was a relief. Cool thing is that a few members of the team also stopped by, mom got along really well with Isabelle and James, and it turns out as silent and brooding as Dimitri is he really good with kids. Unfortunately for mom, he did teach Katie a few things about guns which only affirmed her desire to be a Hunter.

I had contact via phone calls and text messages from dad, John, and Thom regularly. I had told them that the training was going to be brutal, but as they had been quick to point out exactly how brutal it was especially the Gut Crawl. I told them that I couldn't talk about that, as to how disgusting it was. Fortunately like I had done when I was training, they had taken Owen Pitt's advice and not eaten breakfast that morning. John had also given us a bit of a shocker when he said that at the end of the four months, Earl was going to beef up every Hunter Team substantially. Meaning every team was going to get several additional members.

Then it was over, the four month training period was up, and the three had made it all the way through. I had gotten the call from dad, when we had gotten back to the hotel. We were down in Mexico city and had just gotten back from going after a nasty little group of Chupacabbras. You know something? I change my mind, Werewolves were number 4, Vampires were 3, Zombies were 2, and those little goat eating bastards were on the top of my shit list. We were going to fly back to Syracuse in the morning. Pat had purchased an old Vietnam era Paratrooper plane with our team's accumulated wealth. Earl was a little miffed, but there really wasn't much he could say about it. We had enough actually more than enough thanks to that family of Vampires, despite the fact we don't like to talk about it. But yeah, it was about a six hour flight back to Syracuse so we would be back a day before my family, as it was a two day drive from Cazador back to New York.

I was sitting on the bed of the suite Clare and I were sharing. The HK45 sidearm was on the bedside table, and was rolling the ring given to me by Death between my fingers. I was going over what he had said in my head, that even though this ring would not be the cultists leader once he was summoned, it would still find its way to him, and I will be the one to bring it to him.

"Jeez still thinking about what the Horseman said?" Clare's voice snapped me out of my thought. I thought she was taking a shower, and I nearly fell back in surprise. She had indeed taken a shower, as there was a towel wrapped around her body that left very little to the imagination. "Take your mind off of that for one night sweetheart." She winked before tugging at the edge of the towel.

I woke up the next morning feeling more relaxed than I had been in a very long time. Oh what, you'd thought I was going to go into detail about what Clare and I did? Ha, no way in hell! I tell you that and she'll kill me herself. Anyways, everyone was packed the second we got back to the hotel to avoid going insane looking for anything during the last minute packing that always happens during checkout at any hotel anyone goes to. I had secured my HK in a concealed Galco rig under my jacket, and my Beretta was as always secured on my right side along by belt. Clare had done the same with her own HK and the compact USP she seemed to favor so much. We picked up our gun cases, and headed down to the main lobby. It looked as if Connor knew what had happened between us last night and was about to grill us on it, when Isabelle gave him one of those 'don't you even think about it' looks, and he thought better of it. I quickly made a note to have our room back at the compound soundproofed.

If I thought the two and a half hour wait for clearance was bad, the six hour flight in those seats absolutely sucked. No inflight movie, no peanuts, I was just praying we didn't hit turbulence. I don't think this plane could take it. Oh and forget trying to get any sleep on this plane. Like I said, the seats were uncomfortable as all hell (seats yeah right, there were two benches on either side of the hull, and one worn leather strap for a seatbelt. And people ask me why I'm scared of heights. this rickety bucket hits any turbulence and we're all fucked). But finally and I do mean _finally_ our plane touched down in the newly constructed airfield several hundred yards away from the main building of our compound.

"Pat." I said to my best friend as we walked down the plane's ramp. "Next bounty. Seats. Comfortable ones."

"Oh hell yeah." He groaned in agreement as he tried to loosen the knot in his lower back.

It was later the next day when I heard several vehicles coming up the long drive of the compound. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face when I saw a dark blue Shelby Cobra, a dark red El Camino, and finally a dark blue generation 2 Hummer pull up. I raced down to the garage, happily embracing my father and two brothers. I was actually very happy that Earl had sent the three back up here. I was surprised then to see three more cars pull up. a 76 'Cuda SS, a BMW that looked exactly like the one from _Need for Speed Most Wanted_ , and another BMW that looked very familiar. And I was right about that when I saw now former Agent Creed step out of the black German luxury vehicle. We shook hands, as I found myself surprised to have him on the team. Turns out that Earl had handed him a card once the Zombies were taken care of. The owner or should I say owners of the supped up 'Cuda turned out to be two brothers, who looked Iraqi or Pakistani.

"Farid Al-Fulani." The driver said as he extended his hand.

"Alex Morrison." I responded smiling as I shook Farid's hand.

"This is my younger brother Ardeth Al-Fulani." I shook hands with Ardeth as Farid introduced us. "Our parents were from Pakistan, but we were born here in America." Farid supplied, and I noticed there was a difference in the brothers appearence. Farid, had his hair shortened and smoothly slicked back. He had a full beard that was very neatly trimmed. Ardeth had the sides of his head shaved slightly short, and the rest he kept gelled back. While he did have facial hair it was a 5:00 shadow of a gote.

Then the driver of the sweet looking BMW stepped out, and I noticed that Thom angled himslef to get a better look. She was a very attractive young woman. If I had to guess she was either Chinese or Japanese, and then I noticed that she carried a Katana in her left hand. No doubt that she was of Japanese descent. "Kai Leng." She said bowing slightly. A gesture I respectfully returned.

"Alright well welcome to the team. Just drop your gear off in an empty locker, and follow me to the barracks." I said welcoming the 8 new members of our team.


	28. Chapter 28 Load up

Chapter 28. Load up

The next few weeks were just as eventful as the past four months, plus the older members of our team got to see exactly what our newbies were made of. I knew full well that my family could handle themselves due to how well they had done when our home was under siege by Zombies. Now that they were trained as Hunters, well God help anything with a PUFF bounty over its head that was in the crosshairs of one of their rifles. Not to mention the three of them like myself were also Hybrids. But Terry Creed, the Fulani brothers, and Kai Leng weren't slouches themselves. Our first mission after our rookies joined us was in Portland Maine. A call came in about a nest of Harpies. Something that I noticed made the Fulani brothers scowl.

They had been on vacation somewhere in South America when they were swarmed by Harpies. Interesting thing is, was they killed the swarm in the exact way Pat had killed the Gargoyle that attacked him before he joined MHI. Ardeth had driven a car that was was covered end to end in the monstrous flying bastards, and had driven the car straight into a gas station. While Ardeth was busy making fried chicken out of the Harpies, Farid had found the nest, they had made in the side of a cliff, and caused a cave-in by some unknown method, that crushed the nests and any offspring within the cave. So it was a fair point in saying Harpies were at the top of Ardeth and Farid's shit list, and would love the opportunity to put as many rounds in this flock terrorising Portland as they could. The MCB had gotten to Portland before we did, and had evacuated and blocked off the part of the city where the Harpies had made their nest. We were almost turned away by the MCB due to Agent Jefferson being in charge of the scene, and the dislike between him and Pat, however Ardeth and Farid somehow stole an MH6 Little Bird the MCB brought with them. It turns out that Ardeth is an excellent pilot, as he was able to out maneuver any Harpie that got too close, and Kai who had gone with the brother's shredded them with her M249 Para variant SAW LMG. And apparently one of the Fulani brothers had a sense of humor, the whole time their pilfered Little Bird was up in the air, there was music coming from the speaker system which I recognised as _Stand Proud_. The opening to the first half of Season 3 of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. But to say that little stunt had pissed Agent Jefferson off would be an understatement. He was furious, however one of the Feds had been in contact with Locke who was now acting Director of the MCB. Locke who actually liked to work with MHI, found the whole situation amusing, and had decided to allow our team to keep the Little Bird if we took away one of the times he owed us. Seemed like a fair deal to the rest of us, and it added to MHI's small 'air force' something Earl Harbinger had no problem whatsoever with.

Two days after the little stunt we had done with the Little Bird, we were in the forests of South Dakota tracking another den of Werewolves. Once again I refrained from using my XM8 MK II on this mission. But when we became surrounded by 8 feet tall bipedal killing machines, I suddenly wished I had it with me for the extra firepower. Everyone had their fingers on their triggers, when someone made all the wolves stand down. Turns out it was a Native American Shaman, who was the Alpha of this pack of wolves. She explained that her pack lived in recluse away from Humans, and only feeding on the forest's wildlife. We were out of that forest within an hour. Pat spoke to Locke when we got back to our hotel via cell phone, and Locke understood the packs situation and desire, and made an agreement that this particular pack of Werewolves be left alone. Pat passed the information down to Earl, who also seemed to sympathise.

A week later we were in Cairo Egypt. We were going after another Lindwyrm, something that seemed to have shaken Kai Leng up. It turns out when our team had gone after our first Lindwyrm almost a year ago, Leng had been there as well. I never went into detail about what happened, or how the thing was killed, but that particular pain in the ass met its end when explosive charges that were placed all around the large cavern it was dwelling in detonated. the resulting explosions shredded the Wyrm's head, and the resulting cave in crushed what was left. Turns out it was Kai Leng who detonated the explosives, as she was working as one of those tour guides for those kiddy cave exploration tours, and had stolen the detonation switch from Connor while he wasn't looking. Leng had been pretty torn up from the whole deal, and had spent a year in the hospital and physical therapy, but had taken up the opportunity to become a Hunter when Pat visited her in the hospital unbeknownst to the rest of the team. But since then, Kai Leng had a terrible fear of the wingless dragons and absolutely dreaded going up against another. Thom wanted to comfort her, but Dimitri had gotten to Leng first. He told her all about what had happened in Pripyat before he was recruited. He and Leng had the same fear of Lindwyrms, but he also said the fear is a state of mind. Conquer your mind, and you conquer your fear. That being said, when we finally got a good look at the Lindwyrm Kai went pale and it looked like she was about to pass out. Honestly I didn't blame her. The one we fought in that cave, seemed like a baby compared to this one. The large dragon-like Monster was as tall as two of the Pyramids stacked on top of each other. Fortunately we had thought ahead and brought our Little Bird with us. Don't ask me how, but Ardeth and Farid had outfitted it with 2 M134 Miniguns, 2 rocket pods that held fired 7 Hydra 70 rockets, and 2 AGM 114 Hellfire anti-tank missiles. Our new Little Bird was now a warhorse, and it earned its keep when the Hellfire missiles found their mark within the Lindwyrm's mouth. When I congratulated Ardeth on his aim, he surprised me by saying he wasn't the one flying the Little Bird. Hell he was standing right next to me, and it turns out that it was Leng who was behind the controls of the small attack helicopter. I think everyone wanted to buy her a drink that night, because that was the best way I've seen so far to conquer one's fear.

All in all, with everything we had gone through over the past month, I'd say our team was more than ready for what was going to happen in New York City. Even though all 15 of us were nervous about it, we knew what had to be done and we were as ready as we could be for it. It was early morning on June 6th when Pat knocked on my door. "Hey you two, untangle yourselves from each other! It's going down!" Clare and I were out of bed and dressed faster than you could load a magazine into a gun.

15 Hunters moved with calm and determined precision as we donned our armor and assessed our loadouts. Pat still had his Halo sighted M4 rifle. He loaded it with a 100 round STANAG drum magazine and racked the charging handle back. 15 mags went onto pouches on his chest plate. His Sig Sauer went into his hip holster on his right side, loaded with a 30 round extended mag, with 5 more extended mags on the front of his belt, and a two dozen 15 round standard mags placed next to them in similar pouches along his belt. His Taurus Judge revolver was also holstered behind his back along his belt. He had speed-loaders in a pouch on his left thigh. His M7 bayonet was holstered where it always was. The inside of his left boot, and his large Bowie knife was sheathed upside down on his upper forearm just below his shoulder.

Isabell loaded her UMP several times, hit the mag release to make sure everything was running smooth, then loaded her weapon once again before she was satisfied. She had another two dozen mags on her chest plate. Her twin 1911's were where they always were when we went out on missions. Holstered on either side of her hips. She had a full two dozen mags for each sidearm along her waist like Pat did. That same odd cylindrical object was placed in underneath her 1911 on her right, before she took it out once again. She pressed some unseen button on the cylinder, and a 3 ½ blade and handguards extended from the base of what we all now knew was a sword made by Milo Anderson, before the blade and handguards retracted, and she placed the hilt of her blade under her 1911 once again. She had an American Flag bandanna tied behind her long dreadlocks.

Connor loaded his M60 LMG with its usual 200 round ammo box. He had 8 more in reserve this time, in the pouches around his belt, but left room for the two Remington sawed offs that were as always crossed behind his back along his belt. Shells for his two shotguns were placed in slots all around his left sleeve. Like Isabelle, his 1911 was holstered on his right hip, and his backup snub nosed .357 was holstered in his right boot. Connor also loaded his TDI Vector subgun, with a 30 round mag, and placed 10 more around his upper left thigh. He also had a large combat knife on his right shoulder. He chuckled as he picked up his signature Yankees baseball cap and placed it on his head backwards.

James loaded his Benelli tactical shotgun with his favorite Frag 12 rounds. Like Connor, his entire left sleeve was encased in spare shells as well as his chest plate was. If you could load it, James carried it. His AA12 automatic shotgun was loaded with quadrangle buckshot this time around, but he still had his incendiary rounds with him. He wasn't known as 'fireball' on our team for nothing. James' right sleeve was adorned with M203 shells for both his AA12 and his M32 semi automatic launcher. His AR 15 was loaded with a 100 round STANAG drum like Pat's M4, and he had 15 standard rounds as backup along his waist. His large Smith and Wesson 500 was now on his right hip. He also had a bandolier of frag grenades.

Dimitri slowly assembled his H&K 417 DMR, triple checked every magazine he had, before loading his rifle, and placing his 15 spare mags in pouches on his stomach. His reflex sighted AK 47 was also carefully inspected before loading it as well. 15 spare mags went into his chest plate. Finally his MP412 REX sidearm was also holstered next to his AK mags on his chest plate. His machete was sheathed behind his back, and he surprised all of us right then and there when he began to assemble a Russian Dragunov sniper rifle. I had a feeling that rifle was the same one he had used in Pripyat.

Terry Creed slammed a 30 round magazine into his full size SCAR-H, placed 10 more spare mags into pouches on his chest plate. He racked the charging handle back, and checked his Halo sight to make sure it was secure. His Glock that was issued to him when he was still with the FBI, was holstered on a Galco rig under his left armpit, and he had another Glock under his right that he had purchased from _Intimidator_. His spare mags were a full two dozen, and placed like everyone else's along his waist. He also had a Tanto knife sheathed on his right hip. He looked at a photo that was taken of him and his younger brother Corey, before he placed it under his armor's chest plate.

Ardeth carefully slid down the flip up iron sights on his FN F2000 tactical TR, then slid his Halo sight along the top of the triple railed assault rifle, then slid a tactical light along the under barrel before loading a standard 30 round magazine into the rear mag port, and systematically racked the charging handle back. He had a dozen spare mags along his chest plate which had a small 6 sided star on the center. He had two Sig Sauer's holstered on each hip, and his spare mags were slotted around his upper thighs.

Farid assembled, disassembled, and re-assembled his H&K MP7 several times, before he like Ardeth slowly slid the attachable Halo sight along the top rail. Farid's MP7 subgun didn't fit the MHI round standards, but he was very attached to the weapon, so Dimitri had taught him how to hand load rounds. Since then when we weren't on missions, Farid had been in the armory making sure every round he made personally fit his standards. He now had thousands of rounds for his H&K subgun. He had a 1911 automatic made by Les Baer holstered on his left hip, and a Desert Eagle with combat grips who's rounds he had also hand loaded to fit the .50 regulations of the rounds sold by Hornady in a Galco rig of his own that was holstered under his right armpit. His D-gle belonged to his father, a former Mossad officer Ari Al-Fulani. Like his younger brother's armor, the center of his chest plate also had a small 6 sided star on the front.

Kai Leng loaded a 200 round ammo belt into her Paratrooper variant M249 SAW LMG. 8 more spare boxes were like Connor, placed in pouches around her waist. She had a stockless Spas 12, with an oval shaped muzzle for more damage. she placed her shotgun over her right shoulder, and secured her Katana along the left side of her waist. She also had a standard HK45 sidearm on a low riding holster along her right leg.

Thom had already loaded his custom Mk. 14 EBR with an extended 30 round mag, placed two dozen more spare 20 round mags on his chest plate. His full and baby Sig Sauer's were on a double Galco rig like Terry's, with their spare mags were slotted along his waist. His Striker was loaded with quadrangle buckshot, and the stock was folded up as he placed it across his back. His 1911 was holstered along his right side, and his small Walther P38 was in its holster on his right boot, and the Katana I had given him was sheathed along his back along the left side.

John had one earbud in his right ear, and I could hear Wiz Khalifa featuring 2 Chainz _We Own It_ from _Fast and Furious 6_ coming out of the left earbud as he loaded his HK417 assault rifle. After racking his charging handle back, he placed 15 spare mags along his armor's chest plate. His two customised Punisher 1911's were holstered in another double Galco rig. His spare mags like everyone else's were slotted along his waist. His Mossberg shotgun was in a back scabbard across his back. His serrated Ka-Bar was sheathed at a diagonal angle on a low riding sheath along his chest plate. Finally his Albert Wesker model Beretta was holstered on his right hip.

Dad loaded his M16 rifle he had during the Black Hawk incident in Mogadishu with a 40 round extended mag. Loaded 10 more 30 round mags into slotted pouches on his chest plate, then loaded his Broadsword rifle with a regular 30 round mag, and placed another 10 into the other slots. His regular 1911, went in a hip holster on his left while his Les Baer Officer's model 1911 was holstered on his right.

Clare loaded her SCAR PDW with its standard 30 round magazine, before she loaded her ACR with its respective 30 round mag. She slung her larger rifle over her shoulders across her back, and loaded 20 spare mags into her chest plate. 10 for her ACR, and 10 more for her SCAR PDW. Her SW 1026 was holstered on her left hip, her HK45 was holstered along her ribcage on her right, and finally her H&K USP compact was holstered on her right hip. Her Ka-Bar was sheathed on the left side of her waist. She also loaded her spare MP5k, and her KSG autoloader with quadrangle buckshot.

As for me, I had three assault rifles. I placed 100 round magazines into my G36 and the MK II, then I loaded Gungnir with a 50 round drum magazine, and placed a 40mm shell into both my customised G3 and G36. I loaded 20 spare mags each for my G36 and Gungnir, and slotted them along my chest and stomach plate. I slowly loaded my twin Jericho's, the HK45 Clare had given me, and my prized Barry Burton Beretta with their respective mags. The Jericho's went in their holsters behind my back. My HK45 and my Beretta were holstered on my left and right side respectively. Magazines for each were slotted along my waist and around both legs. 8 rounds went smoothly into my Spas, and I cycled the action before I set it into my own back scabbard. My big Kukri knife was now sheathed upside down on the side of my right shoulder. I'd be going into the city with my G36 and Gungnir. Once the situation Death had given to me in my dreams had passed, I would swap the G36 for the MK II. We all had the same look, of determination on our faces as we loaded up.

We were ready.

"Alright, everyone gather round." John said, and I knew exactly where this was going. He had done this six months ago as well during the outbreak right here in Syracuse. We all gathered around in a circle, and bowed our heads, as John began speaking once more. "In the immortal words of Jay Z: _Whatever deity may guide my life. Dear God don't let me die tonight. But if I shall before I wake … I accept my fate._ HELL YEAH!?" There was a resounding chorus of 'HELL YEAH' before we made our way to the garage.


	29. Chapter 29 The briefing

Chapter 29. The briefing

My rifles were loaded into the trunk of my Cobra in their respective cases, as was my Spas, as my supercharged car roared down the highway. Why was I driving my Cobra you ask? There were 15 of us now, and our SUVs would have been cramped as hell if we all tried to load up in them, and with the amount of firepower we were packing, you could forget about carpooling. A couple other members of the team had followed my lead, my two brothers among them. Conner in his '73 Charger, Farid in his 'Cuda, and Pat in his '70 Torino. We were all heading to a meat up in New York state's capital city. Earl had ordered every Hunter team from MHI across the country to meet there. Apparently someone up the U.S. Armed Forces chain of command also heard what was going on, as there was a convoy of military vehicles heading down the highway heading straight towards Albany. The sound of helicopter rotors passed overhead, and star spangled Little Bird armed to the teeth flew overhead. I smiled at Ardeth's choice of paint for the Little Bird, as it passed overhead and I saw Kai Leng and James wave from where they sat on either side of the chopper, their feet resting on the top of the landing strut.

Three Black Hawks I recognised as the Nighthawks flew overhead a few seconds behind Ardeth's Little Bird. Glancing at the long line of military Humvees, I was surprised to find Captain Stone at the wheel of the Humvee to my right. He gave me a 'see you there' wave which I returned once he recognised my armor. I put my foot down to the floor, and my Cobra rocketed forward followed by my brother's Cobra, and Connor, Farid's, and Pat's muscle cars. While I love my car, I knew that the only reason I was ahead of the classic muscle cars, was because I had hit the gas earlier and I was in the left lane exit lane while the military convoy was on the right.

It was a half hour later when we made it to Albany's airport. Well it's old airport to be more precise. It was in mid renovation when it shut down, and the airfield was moved to Albany's south end, and this particular airfield was soon to be scheduled for demolition. For now it served as the Armed Forces, MCB and MHI's meeting ground. There were hundreds of vehicles in the parking lot, mostly MHI and MCB vehicles, but I saw a few that undoubtedly belonged to a Hunter. Several more helicopters flew overhead, and Earl Harbinger's Hind attack chopper touched down just behind the main building. I killed the engine of my Cobra, and headed towards the main building where I saw Earl's Hind touch down. The inside of the main building was pretty bare, and a lot of the walls were covered in plastic, not to mention packed wall to wall with people, Feds, Hunters, and Soldiers. There was a makeshift podium, and Earl along with his team was standing on it along with Agent's Locke and Franks. I overheard several Hunters talking about how deadly the gorilla of a man was. I'd only worked with Franks once, and he hadn't seemed that bad, but given the circumstances of what was happening in New York City, I had a feeling that I would get to see just why a lot of Hunters were made uneasy by his very presence.

"Damn who is that guy?" I heard Thom say as he stood on my left.

"That's Agent Franks." I replied.

"Guy makes Owen look like tiny." I agreed wholeheartedly. Hell Owen had even said he tried to go toe to toe with Franks a couple of times. And had gotten his ass gloriously handed to him.

It was several more minutes, with more Hunters pouring in every second. Finally when it seemed like we were all packed in like sardines, Agent Locke stepped up to the center of the podium to the microphone that had been placed in the center. He sighed softly as if expecting resistance from the crowd before speaking. "If I can have everyone's attention please." Conversations continued for a few seconds before coming to a stop. "Thank you everyone. Now for those of you who don't know me, I am James Locke now acting Director of the Monster Control Bureau. Many of you are well aware of the situation happening in New York City, so I will try to make this quick. I just said it a second ago, but New York City is under siege by the largest Zombie outbreak we have seen. Even larger than the one that happened in Philadelphia two years ago. What most of you don't know is that the outbreak has now spread past New York and into northern New Jersey."

There were a few comments of 'let them have Jersey.' It caused Locke to smile wryly before he gestured to the large monitor that was behind the podium. A large map of both New York and New Jersey came into view. A second later the large map was engulfed in in red. "As you can see, New York is, well in some deep shit." there were a few small laughs from the crowd comprised mostly of Hunters. "We are going to send in advance teams by air, to clear northern New Jersey, MetLife Stadium, and the Lincoln Tunnel which is the most important, as that will allow ground teams to push into the city. We will also be inserting several other teams into Yankee stadium, to have a better advantage when the ground teams make their push. Now there will be air support, in the forms of my Agencies Blackhawk and Huey gunships, as well as MHI's several warbirds. There will also be an AC130 Specter gunship providing overwatch and calling out targets. Now let me make this clear, that gunship will NOT be authorised to use its 105 cannon. Now your team leaders should have your assignments for you. Find them and find out where you're going. Good luck everyone, and the first round is on me when this is all over."

I nodded in approval when I heard Locke say that, and went to find Pat. Didn't have to look very far, he was about 50 feet away reading something on his cell phone. Our team crowded around him, before he put his phone away. "We're going by air, but we're not going to MetLife. We're going straight into the heart of the action. Straight into Yankee Stadium."


	30. Chapter 30 Feet first into Hell

Chapter 30. Feet first into Hell

It was late in the afternoon when the distinct skyline of New York City came into view. There were three choppers heading into the city. Two Blackhawks and our Little Bird, and following behind us were the Marshall and Selene families in their Vtols. In total there were eleven Hunters in both Blackhawks, and 6 in the Little Bird, with another fifteen in both Vtols. In total we had a little more than sixty Hunters heading towards Yankee Stadium. I was in one of the Blackhawks with the rest of my team. The exceptions being Thom and Kai Leng, they were riding in the Little Bird with two other Hunters from a team out of Washington State, and among them was Julie Shackleford's little brother Nate Shackleford. Nate had an M4 SOPMOD made by Ace Custom, and a G11 which is an automatic Glock holstered on his right hip.

"Nervous?" I asked over the sound of the chopper's rotors.

"It's bad down there. Worse than it was in Philly." And Nate wasn't kidding. New York City was home to 8 million people, who all seemed to have their attention split from being drawn to the sound of our choppers, and running for their lives from the undead horde. The scene was worse than it was in Syracuse. Cars were flipped over, a few wee on fire, there were tipped over trash cans, and people were scrambling all over one another either to get somewhere safe, or get to our choppers.

"Yeah it is bad. Good thing is, I think I have a way to relieve some nerves." I said before I contacted Ardeth. "Hey Ardeth, how about some tunes?"

"I couldn't agree more." He replied, and a moment later a metal cover of _Flight of the Valkyries_ blared from the Little Bird's speakers drowning out the sound of the chopper's rotors.

"Pilot has nice taste." Shackelford said noting that I was pandomining the chords of the song on Gungnir's barrel. "Is that a Milo Anderson Special?"

"Yeah. Got it in my second week. I had an XM8 until I went into a den of Werewolves. Son of a bitch destroyed my rifle, but luckily Milo was able to provide me with Gungnir here in just two days.

" _Thirty seconds out."_ The pilot of our Blackhawk which I was surprised to find as Nighthawk 1-1 spoke to us over our comms. There was a serious look in everyone's eyes. Mags were ejected, rechecked and then reloaded into their rifles. Charging handles were raked back, actions were cycled, and those of us who had under mounted launchers, loaded them with either 40mm shells, and a few were loaded with buckshot for up close encounters. I heard Dimitri mutter a small prayer in Russian, as our choppers descended towards the parking lot of Yankee Stadium.

"Doesn't look like we're going to be able to land." Shackleford's team leader, a man with a well trimmed but salt and pepper colored full beard named Michael Recker said to us as he slapped a mag into his shortened and suppressed FAL. I saw James place a plastic mouthguard in, getting the attention of one of the rookie hunters on Recker's team.

"What's that for?" He asked.

"Last drop I almost bit my tongue off."

" _Ten seconds."_

"We're gonna have to fast rope then." Pat responded as he signaled to the two other Rangers who rode with us, who nodded and dropped two ropes out of either side of the open doors of the choppers while we were 30 feet up.

"GO GO GO!"

I hit the the rope and slid down 30 feet to the deck. I had done this before, but it still sucked feeling 5 seconds pass in an instant. My team as well as Recker's were all down a few seconds, and the ropes coiled on the asphalt when the Rangers cut them away from the chopper's. Ardeth's Little Bird set down 10 feet from the ground, and Kai Leng, and another heavy gunner from Recker's team landed on the pavement. The Blackhawks dusted off, but Ardeth's Little Bird was staying on station for sharpshooter support. The Vtols then took the spot of the Ranger's troop transport and attack helicopters. Two sliding doors towards the front opened up, and four ropes slid down. Ten seconds later, sixty Hunters were spread out in the parking lot, weapons leveled as there were Zombies all around us.

"Clear a path to the Stadium!" Mike ordered as a few Hunters opened up on the crowd of undead that had shuffled too close. All of us turned our weapons towards the baseball stadium, and those of us with clear shots dropped the Zombies that stood between us and our goal. It was very slow going to clear our way forwards as it seemed that for every Zombie we killed, 2 more seemed to take its place.

"We're going to run out of ammo before we clear this place." John said as he unsheathed his serrated his Ka-Bar, and stabbed a Zombie in the face that got too close.

"Ardeth we need you to clear the way!" Pat spoke into the comm to the pilot of our Little Bird.

"I'm coming in hot!" _Ride of the Valkyries_ blared over the speakers, as the Little Bird soared overhead, and the two M134 Miniguns spun up and shredded the Zombies that stood between us and the entrance to Yankee Stadium. "You all have a straight shot in, but be careful. I saw even more hostiles inside."

"What are you gonna do Ardeth?" Pat asked our pilot, as the sixty of us ran towards the entrance.

"I have plenty of firepower in my Little Bird. I will be a gracious host and take care of our guests outside."

"Be sure to show them a good time brother." Farid said in a tone that held a slight amount of mockery. "But be careful all the same. Mother would never forgive me if anything happened to you."

The sound of the Little Bird's Miniguns muffled as we made our way into the stadium. Mike had us switch from rifles, to either shotties or sidearms, if we encountered civilians within the complex, we couldn't risk a rifle round doing a through-and-through, and hitting a civilian. Mike had the Marshall brothers take the thirty Hunters that had roped down from their Vtols to clear the lower levels of the sports complex, while my team went along with Mike's to clear the upper levels and outer stadium. My God did it take forever just to clear the inner concourses, as every room had to be checked and cleared. Every souvenir stand, every janitor's closet, every restroom, and every restroom stall. There were a handful of survivors here and there who did take some convincing before they calmed down, but what was really stomach churning, was there were more hostiles than survivors. Yet at the same time as this thought crossed my mind, the words Death had said to Clare and I 6 months ago echoed through my mind.

 _This is inevitable. It cannot be stopped. Hundreds will die: Agents, Hunters, Innocents._

I knew that this couldn't be avoided, but at the same time I was hoping there would be more survivors than the handful we had found here and there in a few spots. It was several hours before we were finally able to move to the outer section. We ordered the civilians we found to take shelter in the largest souvenir shop. Kai Leng and Nate Shackleford were guarding the handful we found, as the rest of us moved in to clear the stands. I loaded the 8th and final shell into my Spas and cycled the action, right before a Zombie jumped in front of me. He didn't last a second longer after I placed the barrel of my Spas under the Zombie's chin, and splattered its brains all over the stands. I hated being surprised like that ever since John played that Friday the 13th prank on me.

I cycled the action, chambering the next round, but I didn't notice a second Zombie approaching on my right. That was until a round ripped through its skull. As it dropped, I saw Pat with his Sig Sauer leveled. "It looks like I owe you one." We bumped fists as we moved up systematically and cleared the stands, noticing like the inner concourse the stands were filled with more hostiles than survivors.

"This is bad man. I was hoping for a few more survivors." Pat said, ejecting a mag, and sliding a new one in, as I loaded 8 more shells into my Spas.

"Well silver lining for you. A lot of these Zombies are in Yankees clothes." Pat scoffed and smirked at that remark. He was by no means a Yankees fan, instead he rooted for their biggest rivals the Boston Red Sox. Now normally someone who supports one New England team would support the others correct? Wrong on that one, Pat is a Jets fan, and vehemently despises the New England Patriots.

"Hey boss." Thom's voice cracked over the comms. "Looks like we have survivors in the dugouts."

Pat and I looked at one another, then looked down the hundreds of steps we had to go to reach the dugouts. The two of us were all the way up in the nosebleed seats. At full sprint with all the hardware we were packing it would take about three minutes to reach the dugouts and the survivors. Unfortunately, the playing field was littered with hostiles who didn't have three minutes to wait for help.

"We can't get to them in time Thom, think you can buy us some?" Pat spoke into his com.

"Can do." The loud _CRACK_ of his custom Mk.14 echoed around the field like someone had struck a home run. I swore that I heard the crowd's screams and cheers, as the Zombie closest to one of the dugouts dropped when its head exploded from the high velocity round fired from Thom's rifle. Another shot rang out, and another Zombie dropped, then another, and another after that.

Pat and I vaulted over the metal guard rail that separated the stands from the playing field, and landed on the concrete roof of the dugout. Several panicked yet muffled screams came from beneath our feet. I slung my Spas, and took out Gungnir once again. My G3 didn't have a scope, but I was just fine with my rifle's standard iron sights, besides I had dropped Zombies with this rifle before. I had the head of a Zombie in my sights, when another rifle report echoed around the entire stadium, and the Zombie I had sighted on dropped to the ground now headless.

"Nice shot little brother, but you stole my kill." I said jokingly into my comm.

"Thanks bro but that wasn't me." Thom replied, as he dropped another Zombie.

"Then who-?" I got my answer when a high-pitched _zip_ went right past my left ear, and decapitated another Zombie. "Damnit Dimitri I really hate it when you do that."

I sighted on another Zombie, and was able to drop it, before Thom or Dimitri could take that kill from me. Dad and John vaulted over the guardrail, and landed on the top of the second dugout. They leveled their rifles, and 6 Hunters cleared the playing field in less than three minutes. An empty drum magazine clattered onto the concrete roof of the dugout that Pat and I were on top of. I loaded another into my rifle, and racked the charging handle back. I had two more 50 round drums left, before I would have to switch to the standard 30 round magazines.

"Everyone alive down there?" Pat asked as he tapped the ledge of the dugout with his left hand.

"Are… Are you the army?" A woman asked with a shaky voice.

"Something like that. Is anyone injured?"

It took a few minutes and some convincing, but we finally got the panicked civilians out of the dugouts. It was very late in the evening, as the sun had just slipped down over the western edge of Yankee Stadium. The Marshall brothers and the other two Hunter teams joined us followed by a small group of civilians, who like the handful we had saved earlier looked scared shitless. Nate Shackleford and Kai Leng weren't a minute behind them. All in all, there were around a hundred people now on the playing field. One of the Werewolf brothers radioed for an air extraction for the civilians, which was ten minutes away.

In that time, a thought occurred to me about Locke's plan. After clearing out northern Jersey, and establishing a command base at MetLife, there was going to be a big push into the Lincoln Tunnel, and into the heart of New York City. "There's a flaw in that plan."

"What plan?" Pat asked. "Locke's plan?"

"Yeah. He said once northern New Jersey was cleared out, ground forces were gonna push through the Lincoln Tunnel. Pat that's in the center of Manhattan."

I saw my best friend's eyes widen, and his jaw go slack as he processed my words. "How will he and the ground tems link up with us, if they have to clear the busiest part of the city?"

I never got the chance to answer that question, as the Marshall's Vtols touched down at opposite ends of the playing field. The rear ramps descended, and the civilians were ordered to get in two at a time. Like Locke's plan, I saw a small hole in this as well. There were now more than eighty civilians on the field, and those Vtols could only hold fifteen passengers. The civilians saw that problem too, and they began to panic. Until four Black Hawk helicopters surrounded Yankee Stadium to allow the two Vtols to take off.

"Those gotta be MCB." Connor said rolling a spent shell casing between the fingers of his left hand. Sure enough, Connor was right, when the doors of the Black Hawks slid open, nearly three dozen heavily armored MCB Agents filed out, with a few bringing out several large crates. Once their packages were unloaded, several Agents ordered the remaining civilians to get into two of the four choppers.

The moment the Civilians were away, another heavily armored MCB Agent stepped forward. An Agent Carrying a Mk18 M4. "Alright, I've got food and ammo." Locke said as he approached a total of sixty Hunters. "Eat up, and re-arm. We're going straight into the heart of the city."


	31. Chapter 31 Into the heart of Hell

Chapter 31. Into the heart of Hell

My stomach gave a sharp jolt of fear, as it had for the upteenth time tonight whenever my guns clicked empty on a spent magazine. I hit the release, and the second my spent 100 round drum clattered to the asphalt, I slammed another fresh one in. I cracked a Zombie in the remaining half of its jaw with the butt of my G36, which sent it reeling back. My right hand instinctively went to my Beretta, and I was soon staring down the custom 6f's iron sights looking at the silver round rotating slowly, as it cleared the muzzle, sailed through the air, and buried itself into the skull of the Zombie I had hit with my rifle.

I nodded in satisfaction, and holstered my sidearm. There were over a hundred of us now. Feds and Hunters armed to the teeth, and ready for war. We had made it about twelve blocks from Yankee Stadium, but every building we came across, we had to clear every space. And I do mean _every_ space. If there was a door in front of us, we had to make sure whatever was on the other side was clear. However like it was at Yankee Stadium, there were far more hostiles than there were survivors.

Another Zombie shuffled its way towards me, I settled Gungnir's iron sights on its head. A single round made its way out of my G3's barrel. To everyone else, it was moving lightning fast, and the Zombie dropped in the same instance I pulled the trigger. To myself, due to my Hybrid blood, that bullet just like the one I had fired from my Beretta sailed slowly through the air. It impacted dead center in the middle of the Zombie's head, and the back of its skull exploded in a mist of black blood.

"Nice shot." Terry Creed admonished, splitting a Zombie's face with a machete he had sheathed along his back, over his left shoulder. He spun the preferred weapon used by Jason Voorhees in his hand once, before he placed it back in its leather sheath.

"I get that a lot." I said with a slightly evil smirk, as I dropped another Zombie, and another after that. "How are you holding up?"

"Well I'll tell you this, Zombies are now at the top of my shit list." Creed replied reloading his SCAR-H.

"I'd agree with you on that point, if we didn't go after a nasty group of Chupacabras down in Mexico a few days before you joined the team." I told the former FBI Agent all about what we had gone through down in Mexico City as we entered another house. It looked like the Zombies had torn the front door down of this house. A second later, my thoughts were confirmed when I saw the splintered remains of what was left of the front door. A light shone on the upper level, as Ardeth entered. A Zombie was illuminated, and all of us leveled our weapons. The discharge of a rifle echoed loudly around the house, and the Zombie dropped from the balcony on the second floor landing, and fell down once again at our feet.

"Whoever's here hold fire. Friendlies coming up!" Creed yelled upstairs, Ardeth took point, I was behind him, and Terry brought up the rear, while Clare, John, and Pat moved in to clear the lower levels. We stacked up at the door where the rifle fire had come from, and entered the room one by one.

There was a grizzled old man sitting in a chair in the center of the room. Several corpses were scattered at the man's feet, and there was an M1 rifle like Thom once had before he purchased his custom Mk. 14 in his hands. The man was clearly a former soldier, maybe from the Korean or Vietnam War judging from his age. "Shit, it's about fucking time." If the situation wasn't so bad, I might have laughed at this man's comment.

"I count…" I looked back out the door, and onto the first floor. "That last one makes ten kills."

"Stick around rookie, I can teach you a thing or two." The old soldier reloaded his rifle, then lit up a cigarette, with a small smile. "You know my wife always said these things would kill me. Take it from an old man kid. Stay away from these damn things." We stood there in shock for several seconds. We had just met this old veteran several seconds ago, and here he was talking to the three of us like we were his grandchildren.

"Sir." Terry began. "We're here to-"

"I know why you're here kid." The veteran said taking a drag on his cigarette, and exhaling the foul smelling smoke. With a bit of effort, he got to his feet with his rifle still gripped in his hands. "There's no one else in the house but me. Let's get the hell out of here- oh wait a second."

He took a small picture off his bedside table. Taking it out of his frame, he folded it up and placed it in his pocket. "Alright now we can go. Last one out get the lights." We made our way back downstairs where John was waiting for us. He shook his head, which meant the house was clear.

"No more Zombies, but I did find these surprisingly in the kitchen." There were a matching set of Colt Peacemaker revolvers in his right hand.

The old veteran reached over and took the old western firearms out of my older brother's hand. "I was going to give these to my grandson when he turned twelve. Only trouble is my daughter-in-law is a real bitch. Haven't seen the kids in three years." I felt sorry for the old soldier, but at the same time I was amazed that the whole time he was speaking, the cigarette never fell out of his mouth.

"Let's get you out of here sir. We'll try to get you evaced as soon as we can, but we still have to clear the rest of the block." John said.

"Let me save you the time." The old soldier said, checking one of his Peacemakers. "Entire block's clear. They always go down to Florida, or out west to California this time of year. I might be old, but I know everyone on this block."

"Recker? Block's clear." John spoke to the Washington team leader.

"How the hell is that possible rookie?" Recker's voice spoke back into our ears.

"Hang on a second, are you talking to Mike Recker?" The old soldier asked, to which John nodded. "You got a backup com device?"

My older brother handed the soldier a walkie-talkie, and he spoke into it while never taking the lit cigarette out of his mouth. "Sargent Recker. If I say that the block is clear, then the damn block is clear."

Recker's voice had a clearly surprised tone when it cracked over our comms. "Captain Woods!?"

"Who the hell else would it be Sergeant?" Came the old soldier … Woods' reply. "There's nobody else on this block, so move on to the next one, before I come over there and place my old peeling leather boot up your ass."

"I'd like to see you try at your age sir. And I made Lieutenant before I retired." Recker responded, before the com cut out.

"Not bad kid." Woods said as he flicked the now fully smoked cigarette out of his destroyed front door, and turning back to John. "About that evac. I'll leave when you kids leave."

"Sir with all do respect-" John started but Woods cut him off.

"I'm not leaving, and sitting in some makeshift refugee camp like some feeble old man. I enlisted to serve my country. And if I survived being shot at, a few undead fucktards aren't going to be a problem. And besides, the only way you're gonna get my guns is if you pry 'em from my cold dead hands."

John opened his mouth to say something else, but I cut him off. "John you might be my older brother, but I'm the more experienced Hunter. I outrank you in this situation. Captain Woods comes with us."

My older brother shrugged, and made his way rifle leveled out of the doorway. I was right behind him, old Captain Woods behind me, Ardeth behind him, and Terry brought up the rear. We linked back up with the hundred plus company of both Agents and Hunters, and resumed our extensive under a microscope search of every house, and every block. There were very few survivors, like there had been over the previous twelve blocks. Although there was a very close encounter in one particular house. A Zombie had gotten the drop on me, and had me pinned against the floor, its decaying face was several inches from mine. My right hand grabbed the upper portion of the Zombie's face, my fingertips were digging into the dead flesh, and with a sickening snap, I forced the Zombie's head sharply to the right. The undead husk went limp, as I snapped its neck, and rolled it off of me. I unsheathed my silver Kukri knife, and buried the blade up to the hilt in the Zombie's skull for good measure.

"You sure Zombie's aren't on the top of your shitlist now?" Terry asked as he helped me back to my feet.

"Trust me. They're number two on my list, but those evil little goat eaters are still number one." I said wiping blackened blood off of my large blade.

With every block we cleared, a distinctive sound became louder. A sound all of us could recognise. It was gunfire. So the second phase of Earl Harbinger's Agent Locke's plan, the push from the Lincoln Tunnel had already happened. Hopefully they were making as much headway towards us, as we were towards them. The large towers of the Empire State Building, the new World Trade Center, and the Times Square building became ever closer the further we got towards the larger fireteam, until either the pilot or one of the gunners in the AC 130 gunship informed us, that there were about fifty Zombies between us and the larger group of Agents and Hunters.

"Alright Connor, Leng, clear us a path. Time to mow the lawn." Pat said signalling the two heavy gunners on our team.

"McGuire, Myers, you two are up. Give our friends a hand." Recker ordered his team's two heavy gunners.

Four heavy gunners stepped up. Connor's big M60, Leng with her M249 Para, McGuire had an FN Minimi, And Myers had an XM8 modified to an LMG. The four Hunters opened up on the Zombies, and under the hail of eight hundred rounds of white hot silver, fifty undead husks dropped like flies in a matter of seconds.

"Now that's a scene out of an action movie." I said in a low voice to Clare.

"Yeah, they all hip-fired like something out of a Schwarzenegger film." She said with a slight smile playing at the corner of her lips.

"Young kids with big guns." Woods said lighting up another cigarette. I saw Pat scowl at the cigarette, he was still trying to quit, and hadn't touched once since our team minus my family, the Fulani brothers, and Kai Leng had that drink together. But I saw him suppress the urge to tell the old soldier to put that thing out.

The hundred plus of us heavy a few civilians, headed slowly into Times Square. We wanted to be sure nothing jumped out at us. Myself especially, as I wanted to avoid a repeat of what had happened about twenty minutes ago. Oh sure I walked away alive, but I did not want another Zombie to get the drop on me. Once we were right under the Times Square tower, a man with a leather bomber jacket, sandy blonde hair, and another lit cigarette like Woods' walked up to us.

"Way to the stadium clear?" Earl Harbinger asked us. Locke, Pat, and Recker nodded in confirmation. "Nice work, alright civi's with me. We'll get you air-lifted out of here. As for the rest of you-" Earl was cut off, when a large explosion made everyone look up. Something had hit one of the wings on the AC 130, and it was taking a nosedive straight to the ground. The wing that wasn't destroyed hit a large skyscraper, and sheared the top off of it.

"Son of a bitch!" Locke cursed loudly, before he got onto his comm. "I need three Blackhawks in the air in the vicinity of Trump Tower now!"

"Skip." Earl said into his own com. "I'm gonna need pickup in Times Square, and make it fast."

Owen Pitt who was the size of a full grown bear, stepped up to Earl. "Where are we going Earl?" He asked before I stepped up.

"You aren't going up in that chopper Owen." He looked at me like I was crazy, but the original seven members of my team understood exactly what I was talking about. "My team is. That dream I was having when I was sent back to Syracuse's MHI branch is happening right now."


	32. Chapter 32 Living nightmare

Chapter 32. Living nightmare

The scene from Earl Harbinger's Hind attack chopper looked exactly like it had in the dreams Death had given me. The streets were packed from sidewalk to sidewalk with Zombies. Both Agents, and Hunters, were firing into the horde of reanimated corpses, and from where I was way up in the air, the muzzle flashes from their weapons looked like fireflies. Fireflies in a forest of corpses. Think about that and try to sleep tonight.

I had half a drum left for Gungnir, and one last full drum in reserve. I ran dry on my one hundred round drums for my G36 a short while after we had gotten Woods out of his home, and while I did have five more standard magazines each for both rifles, I was sorely wishing that I had my MK. II XM8 with me added weight of an extra rifle be damned. I was also down to three mags for my Beretta, four for my Jericho's, and sixteen shells left for my Spas. I wouldn't do much good in an extended fight, and even though I knew that I'd get off that roof alive, I still felt a chill go up my spine at the thought of what was about to happen.

I felt someone's hand on top of mine, and Clare gave me a smile of reassurance, as her fingers closed around mine. And then, it was gone. That chill that went up my spine, that feeling of dread I had deep in the pit in my stomach. Somehow she always made everything alright, even a situation as dire as this.

A few seconds later, the pilot of Earl's chopper, started playing heavy metal from the kick-ass sound system he must have had installed just for situations like this. I recognised who was playing from the attack choper's sound system, it was the Cabbage Point Killing Machine's. Owen Pitt's little brother Mosh had been a part of this group a while back, until the band had kicked him out because he went on a drunken rampage, and done something with the band's tour bus. CPKM had had a bit of a rough patch without Mosh for a few months after booting him out, but had recovered once they picked up a new guitarist.

"Hey, Alex." James called to get my attention, and when I looked from Clare to James, I saw the last grenade he had on his bandolier in his hand. "Catch."

My left hand shot up, and my fingers closed around the explosive device. "Count to three and toss right?"

"Yeah, three is the number you shall count, and the counting of the number shall be three. Four shall not be count, neither shall two, except when you proceed to three. And remember … Five is right out." Everyone laughed as I placed the grenade on my belt, everyone still had a smile on their faces even as we saw the sheared off top portion of Trump Tower.

Clare let go of my hand, and my fingers tightened around Gungnir, as the chopper descended towards the remaining portion of the top of Trump Tower. When the Hind was close enough, I jumped down, and my boots made a crunching sound on the bits of broken glass. Knowing exactly what was coming next, I quickly turned around and my fingers closed around Clare's Galco rig, as she was thrown from the chopper when it turned to avoid the incoming Gargoyles. I hoisted her up, and was surprised at how light she was despite all the gear she had on her armor.

"Thanks for not leaving me hanging Alex." She said relieved, as color began to flood back into her face.

"Damnit Clare. I'm the smartass in this team." I replied in mock irritation, before we turned to the door, to find the Zombies shuffling out of it. Our rifles snapped up, and we dropped every Zombie we saw in short two, and three round bursts. I pulled the trigger on Gungnir's underbarrel, and the explosive shell blasted a hole in the advancing wall of flesh. Our opening that I saw in my dream. Clare dropped several more Zombies, making the hole wider, and I made a break for the door. Once I was through it, I leveled Gungnir and dropped several more Zombies, pausing only so Clare could make a break for it. Once she was through, we unloaded what was left in our magazines, before I pulled the pin on the grenade James had given me, and after counting to three, I lobbed it at what was left of the Zombies.

I pried my hands into the slit that divided the elevator doors, once we had reached them, and once the hydraulic doors slid open, I was glad I was wearing gloves. The elevator kart wasn't there, meaning we'd have to go down on the cables. I let Gungnir catch on its sling, as I reached out and the fingers of my right hand curled around one of the coiled metal cables. Clare mirrored me, and the two of us descended into the blackness of the elevator shaft. It seemed like hours we spent in the elevator shaft slowly going down the cables, and despite my being a hybrid and having enhanced physical atributes, every muscle in my arms and torso were burning. Finally our boots touched the roof of the elevator kart, and there was a duel sigh of relief from Clare and myself. Our spent magazines clattered to the roof of the kart, as we reloaded our rifles. Clare with a thirty round magazine, and I placed my final fifty round drum into Gungnir. Once the access panel on the roof of the elevator was opened, Clare dropped in first, and I followed seconds later. Another set of hydraulic doors later, and the two of us stepped out into the main and very luxurious lobby of Trump Tower, and came face to face with a man with very pale skin, and sunken eyes giving off an appearance very much like a skeleton.

"Hello Alex." Death said, with the corner of his lips coming up in the ghost of a smile.

"Death. So you've been succesfully summoned?" I asked, feeling a jolt of fear shoot through my stomach.

The Horseman shook his head slowly, with his smile widening slightly. "Not yet, but I will be among you very soon. Just not on your side, as if I'm on anyone's side really. But enough rambling from me. Alex, put the ring on."

I fished in the pouch of my armor where I had put Death's ring, and held it up so Clare and the Horseman could see. "If I do this, do I … Do I become a Horseman?" I asked, unable to hide the nervous edge in my voice.

"Yes you do Alex, and that is the only way you survive this situation. You need to become who I am, you need to become Death."

I stared at the ring, and it felt as if time slowed down. It was a long time, (or at least it felt like a long time) before I spoke up again. "If I do this, nobody else dies right? I mean, I know there are heavy casualties, but if I become a Horseman, nobody else has to die tonight?"

Death nodded, and his smile turned up and became wider, if only slightly. "Nobody has to die if you put that ring on right now."

I sighed, nervous about what could happen if I did this, but I wasn't going to allow anybody else, Agent, Hunter or Civilian be killed tonight. "There's only one other person who dies tonight." I said icily as I slipped the Horseman's ring onto my right ring finger. I instantly felt a numb feeling go up my entire body the instant I put on the ring. "And that's the psycho who orchestrated this whole thing."

I saw Death gave one very satisfied nod, before he spoke up once again. "Very good Alex. Now I have one last thing for you. A little … relief from the bullpen." I tilted my head to the side, wondering what Death could have meant. He snapped his fingers, and I felt the ring pulse twice around my finger. Seconds later, Clare and I saw two figures appear behind Death. Both had on identical sets of MHI armor, but their physical appearances were very different. One looked like a much older version of Nate Shackleford, and I realised this was Julie and Nate's father. The man who's wife had turned into a Vampire, and who was killed by Sam Haven from the story Pat had told me. The other man, had a large duster coat over his MHI armor, there was a white and battered cowboy hat on his head. Clare and myself took a look at our team patch, then back to one another, staring at one another in shock. Standing in front of us was the man who I just mentioned killed Raymond Shackleford. Sam Haven.


	33. Chapter 33 O Death

Chapter 33. O Death

"So you're the kid Pat was always talking about huh?" I could tell Sam was sizing me up even just by the way he spoke, and to be honest it was a little unnerving. And this is coming from the guy who just became the Horseman of Death.

"Take it easy on the newbie Sam." Ray admonished, and I could make out the same Alabama accent that Susan had.

"Gentlemen, gentleman." Death cut in tapping the tiled floor twice with his cane. "There is no time for idle conversation. This situation must be dealt with, and dealt with now."

"Well I don't know how much 'dealing' I'm gonna do without a decent weapon." Sam said frowning as he turned to me. "You got a spare kid?"

I looked to Sam, then down at Gungnir. I handed the rifle to the veteran Hunter, but tightly held on when Sam took it in his hands. "This thing gets a scratch on it, I will kick your ass from here all the way down to Cazador."

I swore I saw Sam smile for a split second at my words, before he examined my rifle. "Milo do this one special?" He asked and I nodded in response. "Normally he does shotguns. Milo told me about that Warhammer for Turner's info expert, but Owen's Seiga; Abomination, that damn thing will give any anti-gun shithead nightmares."

"I don't want to talk about that shotgun." Ray said, as he racked the charging handle back on Clare's ACR.

"Well now, is everyone satisfied?" Death asked in a dry sarcastic tone, as from seemingly out of nowhere he handed me my MK II XM8.

"We are now." I said loading a drum into the German made rifle.

"Good." Came the Horseman's reply as he faded away. "I will see you all very soon."

We didn't get one step, before several loud crashes made us all dive for cover. Three large somethings fell through the ceiling, and barreled towards the four of us leaving large gouges in the polished tiled floor, coming to a stop several feet from the large glass doors.

"Gargoyles." We all said it at the same time, looking at the lower halves of the monsterous flying stone behemoths. From somewhere outside, I could hear a rock cover of _Flight of the Valkyries_ playing at full volume, and knew Ardeth and his Little Bird had dispatched the flying stone tanks.

"Someone up there is a damn good pilot." Sam said in approval.

"Thank him later. Let's get moving." I said.

"Got somewhere to be kid?" Sam asked as he followed me to the door.

"Yeah. Out there killing Zombies." I replied sarcastically. "Ardeth, four coming out of Trump tower. Hold your fire."

" _I'd wait a moment Alex. The street is crawling with hostiles. Don't worry though, I'll have the street cleared very soon."_ The music coming from the Little Bird was drowned out by the sound of its duel miniguns. The four of us stepped back, as the glass was splattered with black Zombie blood.

"He's gonna have a bigger PUFF check than anyone else on the team by the end of this." Clare said as we stepped out of Trump Tower rifles leveled in the unlikely case Ardeth had missed a spot.

" _Your way is clear Alex. The rest of the team is several blocks over. I'll stay on overwatch and point out anything hostile."_ Ardeth spoke into my earpiece.

The four of us moved slow. Sam taking point, Clare behind him, Raymond was third, which left me bringing up the rear. On the off occasion we saw a hostile, Sam or Clare had offed it before Ray or myself could sight on it. Our team soon came into sight, and the look of shock and disbelief of Pat's face when he saw his former team leader would have been priceless if we weren't in the middle of a large Zombie outbreak.

" _Fucking… What the fuck!? Who the fuck fucked this fucking… How did you fucking… FUCK!?"_

"Well that certainly illustrates the diversity of the word." Someone said absentmindedly after Pat's outburst.

"You can thank the Horseman." Clare said to my best friend. "He gave both Same and Ray a second chance."

"Right well the Zombies seemed to have withdrawn." Isabelle said, stepping in for Pat who seemed to have lost the ability to speak. "From what it looks like, They seemed to have taken up a defensive position around the new trade center."

"Well that's good, and bad." Sam said. "Now we know where that son of a bitch is, the challenge is clearing our way into and up that goddamn building."

"Why not just do what we did in Philly. Hose down the Zombies with minigun fire, and get as many highly armed Hunters in that building as we can." Connor suggested.

"Locke, we need some air support." Isabelle spoke into her comm.

"What for?" The acting director of the MCB asked.

"To reenact the final hours of the Philly outbreak." Our medic replied.

"Give me two minutes."

I really have to hand it to Agent Locke. He is good. From what I heard from Steve, and the members of my team that fought in Philly, only two attack choppers mowed down undead hostiles that surrounded the art museum where Steve fought and killed the Vampire responsible for the outbreak. But this time around, there were ten Blackhawks in the air heading towards the new trade center. I swore people in Canada could hear the overlapping gunfire it was so loud. I couldn't help but smile as I saw all those Zombies drop … Wait, drop? No poor choice of words on my part. Those Zombies didn't drop, no they were turned to fucking paste.

Our chopper touched down on the blood splattered, and hole filled sidewalk, and the fifteen Hunters that composed my team hustled weapons leveled into the building. I made my way over to the elevator, and my thumb was inches away from the 'up' button, when Pat stopped me.

"What are you doing?" He asked, and I could tell by his tone, he was still shocked from the fact Death had brought his former team leader back.

"Going up." I replied. "He's gonna be on the top floor."

"You really think this nutcase is gonna be that Cliche?" He asked.

"Yup."

"Well you're not going up there without me." James said, loading a shell into his Benelli.

"And you're sure as hell not going up there without me." Clare said stepping up, and there was a fire in her eyes I had never seen before.

"Alex, I'm your team leader, but you're also my best friend. So there is no way in hell that you're going without me." Pat and I bumped fists, before I hit the 'up' button, and we all filed into the elevator.

As horrible generic elevator music played, a thought ran through my mind. "So what's everyone gonna get with their PUFF bounties?"

"Think I'm gonna do a little traveling after this." Pat said, as he checked his Sigg. "Ireland, London, Definately Russia."

"Aw come on man. Russia? It's freezing there." James chidded. "Me? I'm going to Dubai. That place has been on my bucket list for a long time, and with the life expectancy this job has, I'm not passing up on that opportunity."

"Not bad James. But I'm thinking Madrid. Good food, beautiful music, and private penthouses." Clare said that last part nudging my arm with her elbow.

"Me? I've always wanted to go to Venice." There were nods of approval from the other three, but they had no idea what I really planned to do in Venice.

We all tightened our grips on our weapons, as the elevator dinged, and the hydraulic doors slid apart. The leader of the cult we had engaged all those months ago stood in the center of the room. It surprised me that he had both of his arms, as I had shot his right arm off with my Spas the last time we had met. But what really surprised me was that he had three rings on his left hand. Of course I should have known that he would be wearing them. He needed them after all.

"Welcome my friends." He said with a sickeningly overconfident smile, as he spread his arms. "But I'm afraid you're too late to stop me. In just a few moments, I will have summoned the final Horseman. I'll have his ring, and then I'll be able to open the gate directly into the cage. However, since I cannot have you four interfering…"

It felt like an electric shock had gone through me. I couldn't move. None of us could. That cultist leader had done something to paralyze us. Then that same bright light that flashes whenever this nutcase made an escape flashed once more. Only this time it was different. This time, when the light dimmed, and my eyes no longer hurt, the cultist leader was still standing in front of us, and Death was standing next to him.

"And with this, I win." He said as he turned to the Horseman, and held out his left hand. "I'll have your ring now Death."

Death's lips turned up in that same ghost of a smile. "I'm afraid that is not something I can do."

The cultist leader's smile faltered. "What are you talking about Horseman?" He demanded.

Death drummed his long fingers along his cane. "I mean I do not have my ring. It is here, but it is not in my possession. As of right now, I am not even the Horseman of Death."

My XM8 clattered to the floor, as I grabbed my combat hatched, and brought it slicing through the air, taking the leader's left hand off at the wrist. I had been freed from the leader's spell due to the power of Death's ring. The cultist leader howled in pain, but his cry of agony was cut off when the instep of my left boot caught him in the mouth, and sent him flying back.

"I believe that as of right now." I said, picking up the man's severed hand, and removing the three rings belonging to the other Horsemen. "I'm the Horseman of Death."

"No! I will not have you ruining everything!" He said, his face going pale, as blood poured from his stump of a wrist. "You will not destroy everything I have worked for-!" He was cut off when the four of us opened up on him with our sidearms. We continued to fire, until all of us clicked empty. The leader of the cultists we had engaged on several occasions dropped to the floor.

"Well done." Death said clapping his hands together. "But I do not believe he is finished off. What will you do?"

I looked from Death, to the cult leader, to my three other friends, and finally to my Beretta, and the rings. "I have an idea."

I holstered my beloved sidearm, and removed Death's ring from my right ring finger. The second I removed it, I no longer felt numb. I placed all four rings in the palm of my left hand, and as if drawn to one another, the four rings linked as if magnetised. I threw the four rings against the window closest to where the body of the cult leader lay, and the window dissolved into a black void. I slowly crossed over to where the man's body was, and hauled him up.

"You don't have long to live, but that's about to change. You'll live forever in that cage, enjoying an eternity of suffering and damnation. So enjoy your permanent vacation." And with that, I tossed him into the black void. The last thing I ever heard of that man, was his scream of agony as the portal to the cage closed, and the four rings clattered to the floor.

"Earl, it's Martin. Cult leader is KIA. We've won."

The next thing I knew, I was down in the main lobby of the new trade center. My team had surrounded me, laughing and high-fiving myself, Clare, James, and Pat. I was laughing along with the rest of them, up until Sam walked up to me.

"You did good kid. You did real good." He said, handing me back Gungnir.


	34. Epilogue

Epilogue

In the aftermath of the outbreak, both the MCB and MHI lost a total of over a thousand good men and women. Fifty six percent of New York Citi's population was lost, having been turned into Zombies. The good news is that MHI got a metric ass-ton of new recruits from the civilian's we saved who wanted to fight back. Mike Recker's old commanding officer Woods would have liked to have joined as well, unfortunately old age caught up to the old man. The old Captain was given a military funeral with full honors. He left his house and those two Colt Peacemakers to his grandson. James Woods is a nice kid, and a damn good Hunter, but that isn't my story to tell. Once we had buried our fallen Hunters, our team decided it was long overdue for a vacation. Luckily I had persuaded everyone to travel to Venice. I said it earlier, I had something planned.

It was mid afternoon in late August, and Clare and I were right in the middle of Venice Plaza. "I can't believe the rest of the team didn't want to come." Clare said in disbelief, and I had to suppress a smile. Clare had absolutely no idea.

"Their loss for missing out on a kickass vacation." I said, with a knowing tone.

"So can I ask you something Alex?" She asked coming to a stop in the middle of the plaza. "Why Venice?"

"Stupid reason really. Family history." I said, and Clare gave me a look indicating she wanted me to explain further. "Well my grandpa proposed to my grandma here, and my dad did the same thing. He asked her to marry him here."

"Alex are you…?" Her eyes widened in shock, and begin to well with tears as I dropped to one knee, and pulled a small box out from my jacket pocket. And as Clare brought her hands up trying to wipe away her tears, our team as well as her parents surrounded us in a large circle.

"Clare Valentine, will you marry me?" I asked looking straight into her eyes.

"Yes Alex! Yes I will!" She exclaimed, openly crying but smiling brightly as she slipped the ring onto her left ring finger. I swore the entire plaza burst into applause, as our lips met, and I held my new fiance in my arms.

The End


End file.
